Showing posts with label Hong Kong Cinema. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hong Kong Cinema. Show all posts

Wednesday, 1 April 2026

CINEMA REBORN – CLASSIC ASIAN FILM-MAKING - PEKING OPERA BLUES (Tsui Hark, Hong Kong, 1986) + THE WIFE OF SEISAKU (Yasuzo Masumura

 Two of the most renowned names in Asian filmmaking will be represented in Cinema Reborn’s 2026 programme.

Peking Opera Blues – IFC Center

PEKING OPERA BLUES (Tsui Hark, Hong Kong, 1986)

‘As a director and producer, [Tsui] Hark has emerged as the most influential figure of the [1980s], a virtuoso of high-speed narration and optical panache … at his best, as in the period comedy Peking Opera Blues, his interlocking machinery of cues and responses induces a euphoria in which one is happy to mistake the screen’s leaps and convolutions for a semblance of reality.’ – Geoffrey O’Brien, The New York Review of Books

Set in 1913, after the fall of China’s last imperial dynasty, Tsui Hark’s vibrant action-comedy follows three young women – a cross-dressing spy (Brigittte Lin), a musician and courtesan (Cherie Chung), and an aspiring actor (Sally Yeh) – who become entangled in a political conflict. Forming an alliance with a guerrilla fighter (Mark Cheng) and a disillusioned soldier (Cheung Kwok Keung), the group enacts a plan to protect the democracy of the fledgling Chinese Republic.

Showcasing Tsui at the exhilarating height of his powers, Peking Opera Blues is an enigmatic, richly layered and wildly entertaining opus that director Quentin Tarantino has declared ‘one of the greatest films ever made.’

Introduced by Dylan Cheung at Ritz Cinemas and Cecilia Tsan at Lido Cinemas.

Screens once only in each city. For links to each theatre’s

bookings and session times and to read superb programme notes by Rachel Ho Click here.

Yasuzo Masumura – Windows on Worlds

THE WIFE OF SEISAKU (Yasuzō Masumura, Japan, 1965) 

...And from Japan comes a film by the largely unknown director Yasuzo Masumura, a film which in critic Tony Rayns program notes advises us that, with the recent discovery of Masumura’s work and the restoration of his work being undertaken by his distributor Kadokawa The Wife of Seisaku (Seisaku no Tsuma) will soon be known as a 1960s’ classic.”

Set against the backdrop of the Russo-Japanese War and expressing a strong critique of militarism, Yasuzō Masumura’s piercing melodrama is a major work from a long-overlooked director. Wakao, who collaborated with Masumura on twenty films, is a particularly commanding presence, bringing a fierce intensity to the tightly controlled narrative.

Introduced by Jane Mills at Ritz Cinemas and Grant Watson at Lido Cinemas.

Co-presented by The Japan Foundation, Sydney.

Screens once only in each city. For links to each theatre’s bookings and session times and to read superb programme notes by eminent British critic and scholar of East Asian cinema, Tony Rayns Click here.


CHARITABLE DONATIONS

Since our inception supporters have continued to ensure that the annual season is able to present the very latest and very best international and Australian film restorations.

Tax deductible charitable donations have enabled us to keep our admission charges to regular Ritz and Lido prices (with the lowest student concessions of any similar film-related event). We have once again set up a page via the Australian Cultural Fund to receive donations of any size, large or small. You can find it IF YOU CLICK ON THIS LINK

More news soon…

Wednesday, 28 August 2024

At the Sydney Film Festival (Part 3) – Janice Tong's Short Take on ALL SHALL BE WELL (從今以後, Ray Yeung, Hong Kong/China (2024)

 

Lin-lin Wu, Patra Au, All Shall Be Well


 

All Shall Be Well is a beautifully made small film from Hong Kong that at its heart looks at the idea of what makes a modern family. From its first frames – an early morning routine of two familiar lovers in their 60s, their silent movements, habitual, tender, every day. There’s no need for dialogue or any introduction to these two characters. 

 

It’s impossible not to be captivated by the understated performances of Patra Au as Auntie Angie and her life companion, Pat (Lin-Lin Wu). The two women are clearly still in love with each other, so many poignant moments of them sitting next to each other at their dresser, preparing their breakfast (this was the loveliest – like a well-rehearsed pas de deux), or walking down the street to the market together. Theirs was a companionable life that has been bedded down like the course of a winding river. No doubt they had weathered storms in earlier times, although family members now seem to be supportive. I’m sure that ‘coming out’ in Hong Kong for their generation would have been extremely difficult.

 

When Pat dies all of a sudden, and as she didn’t leave a will, Angie’s world is literally torn to shreds. The much needed time for grieving your other half recedes to the background as the infighting begins. What kind of funeral should be performed? According to whose wishes, now that Pat is no longer alive to speak for herself? Where should she be buried? What happens to the apartment that was Pat and Angie’s co-residence? What was their relationship in the eyes of their family, or the law? 


Patra Au

Perhaps the most heartbreaking thing is that Angie was constantly referred to as ‘her good friend’ or ‘they were like sisters’, as the family insists on keeping their relationship hidden, like a dirty family secret, when dealing with the authorities or lawyers or the Buddhist priest. More than that, they began to deny their relationship had ever existed. And in the end, the family, being blood relatives, gets the final say. The loophole for same sex couples in Hong Kong does not recognise this type of relationship if one has passed on without a will. 

 

The Cantonese title of the film, 從今以後, is a well-known turn of phrase, a Chinese idiom that translates literally as ‘from now on’, but it’s meaning is really about ‘starting again’ once we’ve come to a realisation of some past mistake or action that needs to be corrected. Perhaps the English title All Shall Be Well may be read as its adjoining couplet; that from now on, (having realised our mistakes) we’re able to amend our wrongs, that all shall be well. If you get this phrase next time in a fortune cookie, read into it this profound message.

 

We were lucky to have the director, Ray Yeung, present at the screening, where he talked about the impetus that drove him to make the film and some of his filmic choices. Although the film won the Best Queer Film at the Berlin Volksbühne, he said it was extremely difficult to source funding to make the film, "I was told that no one wants to see two lesbians over 60 in a relationship", especially because in Hong Kong, “old gay couples are a minority within a minority”.

 

For me personally, there's pure joy in hearing my mother tongue, Cantonese, spoken on the big screen (it has been a while for me with new Hong Kong films), the nature of the spoken language has many colloquialisms that only native speakers would be able to pick up on its nuances. Especially nostalgic moments were from some of the early scenes where the family and children all got together to play games: red light, green light; and marble checkers – I still have my set from Hong Kong, brought over to Australia all those years ago. A lovely reminder of my old home town.

 

All Shall Be Well has carved out a small oasis for itself in this fast-paced city – the film is slow and poignant, filled with moments of pause and meditation, as though it's asking the city to also take time out in order to reflect on this story. The pared-back colour palette and generally monotonal treatment in the film adds to its consideredness: of loss, grief and rejection. With this film, Ray Yeung has raised an important question for our millennia: who has the right to speak for, and make decisions for the one who is no longer there? 

 

The 71st Sydney Film Festival screened from 5 to 16 June 2024.


Wednesday, 5 June 2024

The Current Cinema - Barrie Pattison tracks down the Chinese hit of the year - TWILIGHT OF THE WARRIORS: WALLED IN (Soi Cheang, China, 2024)


Director Soi Cheang’s new Manga adaptation Jiu Long cheng zhai · Wei cheng / Twilight of the Warriors: Walled In is currently the big-earning Asian block buster. In the early scenes, it raises hopes of a revival of the great Hong Kong action movies. However, this one settles into being long, ultraviolent and uninvolving. There’s also the uncomfortable feeling that it is a piece of Beijing propaganda that wants to remind us how lawless and ugly Hong Kong was before Mainland authority imposed proper control.

Despite a contemporary dim and busy look – like Les Trois Mousquetaires – as the film runs on we recognise the conventions and devices of the Kung Fu Cinema. The fight in the doubled deck bus could have been choreographed by Jackie Chan. The film even fronts the heavy-weight presence of Sammo Hung, once the sharpest tool in the Asian Cinema drawer. He dominates every scene in which his Mr. Big Vice Tsar appears and at seventy even manages a couple of moves for the fight scenes mainly left to doubles and the agile young actors who are more familiar to the people watching these regularly than they are to me. There are no significant female characters, though the billing manages to front a couple of bit players they can advertise to escape charges of excessive macho. The little girl comic, who looked like she was going to be an element, vanishes.

Plot has illegal arrival (one cut of a ship’s deck in a storm) Louis Koo providing the entertainment in a decadent (of course) luxury night spot as a no holds barred fighter who takes down an opponent for the delight of customers. When he goes for his pay-off, bleeding from being dragged round the broken glass on the floor, Sammo pockets the money and says he will use it to get the fake I.D. Koo is saving for. What he subsequently provides is so shoddy that the kid punches his way out of the dope warehouse grabbing a bag of what proves to be Blow instead of cash.

Louis Koo, Sammo Hung

He is pursued into the Walled City of Kowloon, which is as important as any of the characters and the film’s strongest element, with people living among its smashed concrete floors, scarred walls and tangle of air conditioners and electrical cables. Low flying air liners nearly touch the roofs. We’ve seen this in the films of Tsui Hark but it was never as grubby and menacing as this.

The residents give the wounded fugitive help but his attempts to push the drugs confront him with the ground level barber who is (of course) a martial arts champion, and easily takes him down. Some doctoring with a masked man in a store of porno VHS tapes, which are new to Koo, and he’s put to work with the barber’s helpers, whom he joins in crooked mahjong games. They become his new family.

This sanctuary is of course imperilled by excessive plot development as much as historical events. Criminal magnate heavies plan on buying out the Walled City for token payments and reselling the land to the developers, who will cover the site with new high rises. Meanwhile, a generational revenge plot surfaces and ambitious lieutenants exert control. The menacing silhouettes blocking the entrance to alleyways are OK but we are over the top with the hysterical villain having “Spiritual Power” that makes him invulnerable to edged weapons and can only be taken down in the tradition of King Hu’s costume actioners by the combined martial arts skills of the battered gang members. Also, as in the samurai adventures, guns make a belated entrance. I was watching the clock well before this.

I rate this one as an opportunity missed.

Tuesday, 18 July 2023

The Current Cinema - Michael Campi draws attention to screenings of another Chinese indie - A LIGHT NEVER GOES OUT (Anastasia Tsang, Hong Kong, 2022)

A Light Never Goes Out Poster

This poignant Hong Kong drama is another recent Hong Kong indie feature that pleases through its subtlety and fascination with the past, something that never becomes sentimental nostalgia, but more of a realistic lament for the rapid decline of an industry of uniquely talented and experienced artisans, creating those world famous colourful neon displays which have illuminated the length and breadth of many Hong Kong locations. They had a practical purpose in terms of advertising but also provided lighting for busy areas of a bustling city. During this century, decisions to replace these sometimes unofficial structures with smaller, more economical LED lights have been met with regret. Today there are non-profit organisations collecting signs that have been subject to removal orders although there are ways to overcome these decrees but they are expensive. There's a move to smaller, safer, more economical LED illumination. 

Sylvia Chang

Winner of the 5th First Feature Film Initiative project organised by Create HK, a film promotion scheme of the Hong Kong government, A LIGHT NEVER GOES OUT received its world premiere at last year's Tokyo International Film Festival followed by the Golden Horse Film Festival in Taiwan and was included in Rotterdam IFF earlier this year. With over a hundred appearances in front of the camera and more than a dozen as director, Sylvia Chang won the Golden Horse Award for Best Actress for A LIGHT NEVER GOES OUT in which she portrays a recently widowed mother, whose late husband (Simon Yam) manufactured colourful neon lighting from his small artisan workshop. 

In an unofficial cycle of new Hong Kong films in Cantonese, this is another reminder of such small manufacturing enterprises which have been disappearing in Hong Kong. The widow discovers that her late husband's workshop is still operating although her daughter believed it had been closed long ago. Moreover there's a new apprentice installed and sleeping in the workplace, puzzled by the disappearance of his master while small orders keep arriving and larger debts like back rent are significant. Unknown to the mother, the daughter plans to migrate to Australia with her partner of the last three years. She believes her mother needs psychological help when there is any discussion of the family enterprise still functioning. The lack of communication between mother and daughter is significant. It's no surprise that a close platonic bond develops between the mother and apprentice, both of whom become intent on recreating a particular sign hinted at by mysterious designs found in the workshop.  

Simon Yam

This is the feature debut of Anastasia Tsang, a graduate of the Sorbonne, who co-wrote the fine script. Like Sylvia Chang, Simon Yam as the late husband is another veteran of Chinese cinema.  There's a understated, loving understanding between their characters which is well developed. Their performances are subtle with a genuine fondness appearing in their union. It's surprising  these two popular actors have rarely appeared together before. Well-judged flashbacks of the couple feature potentially fresh stars playing husband and wife many years earlier. The attractive score is by Wong Ngai Lun and Janet Yung while the frequently nocturnal scenes are delicately photographed by Leung Ming-kai who has worked with many filmmakers including Anocha Suwichakornpong, Amos Why, Jun Li and indeed an earlier film directed by Sylvia Chang. 

Beside the final credit roll are pictures of significant neon sign craftsmen with short bios indicating many of them developed these often huge structures during fifty or more years of creativity, perhaps from school leaving age. 

Below are the imminent screening details for Australia. 

Adelaide -  28 July 2pm @ Mercury Cinema

Melbourne - 5 August 2:30pm @ Cinema Nova 

Brisbane - 12 August 3pm @ The Elizabeth Five Stars Cinema

Gold Coast - 18 August time tbc

Sydney - 21 - 23 August 5pm @ Roseville Cinema 


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Editor's Note: Michael Campi is a longtime Melbourne-based cinephile with a particular interest in Asian cinema. In a recent previous post he drew attention to another Chinese indie having one-off  or exclusive screenings around Australia. Click here to read his notes on THE NARROW ROAD (Lam Sum, 1922)

Thursday, 6 July 2023

The Current Cinema - Michael Campi draws attention to a new film from Hong Kong - THE NARROW ROAD (Lam Sum, 2022)


The Narrow Road

In recent years the renaissance of independent Hong Kong films in Cantonese has been a welcome contribution to local and world cinema. Several prize-winning films have been popular inclusions in international film events. Lam Sum's THE NARROW ROAD premiered at the Edinburgh Film Festival in 2022 where Fionnuala Halligan expressed enthusiasm in Screen Daily: "tender, thoughtful film. "The film continues to be greeted by warm responses internationally along with prizes and citations. Let’s hope that such films will find more inclusion and recognition in arthouse cinemas around the world. Excitement in Hong Kong cinema is more than generic crime films or restorations of the work of Wong Kar-wai however timeless and superb many of them continue to be. 

 

In a Q&A, Lam Sum told an audience that the script for THE NARROW ROAD was started before the pandemic as the story of an honest man working in his small cleaning business in Sham Shui Po, living with his ailing mother while employing and assisting a young, likable single mother whose care for her young daughter might conflict with honesty in retail environments. 

 

When Covid became a harsh reality in Hong Kong, its inclusion in the final script provided more than a background to everyday events.  The narrative is very finely developed in terms of characterisations and a sympathetic look at unskilled people struggling to survive during health and economic uncertainties. 

 

As with Lam Sum's earlier short film OASIS, there is a genuine concern for younger people living in low or no rent situations.  Both films display a strong sense of understanding the importance of fine visuals, particularly in THE NARROW ROAD, with its exquisitely rendered scenes (cinematography by Meteor Cheung) especially nocturnal streetscapes.  Both films, along with the exceptionally fine DRIFTING by Jun Li, have memorable scores by composer Wong Hin-yan. Happily his recent work for THE NARROW ROAD is available on a commercial CD.

Angela Yuen The Narrow Road

 

The leading actor, Louis Cheung, has a long career in singing, writing songs and acting in theatre. His appearance on the stage as Stanley Kowalski in A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE was well received. Early in his career, he voiced Anakin Skywalker in the Cantonese dubs of two STAR WARS films.  His co-star Angela Yuen provides a subtle performance as the bright young single mother, remaining a sympathetic presence even when she excuses small acts of retail larceny because of her young daughter's needs.  

 

This is a film that deserves a wide audience to appreciate its excellent narrative, visual and aural qualities.   One looks forward to more innovative independent Hong Kong Cantonese films and the future work of Lam Sum. 

 

Lam Sum, director of The Narrow Road

It's exciting to note that THE NARROW ROAD won the Hong Kong Film Critics' Awards for directing and leading actor.  The film was deservedly also awarded Best Director and Best Actor prizes by the Hong Kong Film Critics Society. It also achieved prizes for best original film score in the Hong Kong Film Awards and the Golden Horse Awards in Taiwan.

 

Sunday, 9 October 2022

On Blu-ray - John Snadden notes the arrival of CHAMELEON - a new label devoted to releasing Asian cinema


I'm very happy to report on the debut of the new, local blu ray label, Chameleon. 

It specialises in Asian cinema and has been created for an audience badly overlooked in past years. And the people behind this boutique label definitely know their Asian films. 


The first tranche of BRs consists of the Johnnie To crime pics, Exiled and Breaking News and from Japan the quirky cult comedy, Summer Time Machine Blues. 


As the sequel to To's The Mission, Exiled is a near perfect
choice for Chameleon and bodes well for the future. 

Each film is a Special Edition packed with extras and majority input from local academics and cinephiles. The titles can be purchased individually or as a three pack. 

For film enthusiasts in Oz, we can now access quality Asian movies without being gouged for postage by similar overseas companies. 

With the Imprint label and now Chameleon, Australia is punching well above its weight when it comes to quality DVD distribution.

Wednesday, 15 December 2021

Reviving Memories of Kim Maree Penn - Mike Retter remembers an Australian actor who conquered Hong Kong


Kim Maree Penn was the Sharon Stone of martial arts films. The most beautiful gweilo to ever work in the Hong Kong film industry. 

The peak of her career would be the classic In The Line Of Duty 5: Middleman ( In The Line Of Duty V: Middleman), with a fantastic end fight against Cynthia Khan (hand to hand, sword fighting). Kim Maree Penn is actually a security expert, bodyguard and martial arts instructor in real life. 

She was able to enjoy one of Hong Kong cinema's peak eras. Pre-CGI, Kim Maree Penn employed lots of physicality and stunt-work in her often villainous roles.

CLICK HERE FOR MIKE RETTER'S YOUTUBE MASHUP OF HER GREATEST HITS




Saturday, 7 August 2021

The Dextrols Touch - A Memoir in which Barrie Pattison remembers the glory days of random alternates in Sydney cinema going. (Part Three ) - Turkey, Hong Kong, China

 EDITOR’S NOTE: This is the third part of a memoir by Sydney cinephile Barrie Pattison in which he recalls the days of discovering world cinema in places far beyond the mainstream screenings of the day. The previous two parts dealt with Greek cinema and with Italian cinema Click on the links to read the previous pieces.


 
Another ethnic group with a sporadic cinema circuit was the Turkish community. Turkish movies offered belly dancer melodramas and historical biographies like Remzi Jöntürk’s 1973 Pir Sultan Abdal but at this time star actor “The Ugly king” Yilmaz Güney had turned to directing. This extraordinary talent, imprisoned repeatedly for his leftist sympathies - or for shooting a local judge depending on which story you buy - was not discovered in Europe till long after many of his remarkable films were screening here regularly - Endise, Zavillilar, Suru and Yol, made to his specifications from jail, which carried off festival prizes. The London NFT claimed imense difficulty in putting together a retrospective of his work. I put it to doomed AFI Exhibition that Frith had made them a gift and they could stage a Güney season from the local copies. That spot however got  filled with Burning an Illusion, a more politically correct piece sent by the B.F.I. 

There was even a circulating Macedonian event. Made cheaply in Sofia, their 1971 Zedj / Thirst,  directed by Dimitre Osmanli, was low on sophistication with the lustful official having his way with local matrons where the preacher is ineffectual even in getting the district school ma’am to dance to the transistor radio music. It’s companion piece Kiril Cenevski’s Crno seme / Black Seed also 1971 treated the aftermath of the Greek Civil War. The scene of the hero thrown, bound head and foot, into the river in a sack with the ship’s cat and emerging barely scratched, holding the sodden animal dead in his mouth, was sufficiently striking for Chuck Norris to do it over in one of M.I.A. films.

Showing their elements of Greek and Russian productions, films like these whatever their limitations, helped fill in our world movie map.
 
In the early seventies there was a clear passing of the baton. Pariscope magazine recorded the first week that the number of kung fu films they listed passed that of  Italian westerns showing in the French capital. In Australia, ageing Europeans lost interest in their former favourites and their children thought of these as the oldies’ movies. In Perth’s Leederville, the theatre running Italian films changed hands to Chinese management. The Asian films began like the old ethnic chains playing nostalgia material to an audience who wanted to see films in their own language,  post Vietnam war immigration filling the venues with families who brought box lunches and sat there all day. Programming so many outlets created a demand for anything that moved, fed by operas filmed on stage, pink copies of  old Chinese culture enthusiast  Li han-hsiang independents or pre-celebrity Jackie Chan.

Even so Australia’s Chinese film experience had only superficial roots in it’s history. The intriguing thirties Shanghai cinema of Ruan Lingyu and the US co-productions of Esther Eng or the ninety nine monochrome Wong fe-hung features never surfaced. When one of Lin Dai’s weepies turned up, the operator knocked the ‘scope lens off on the assumption that it must be pre-wide screen - because it was in black and white. 

Tears of the Yang-Tse - Yang Bai, Yunzhu Shangguan
Exceptionally they did air Mainland leftists Cai Cusheng and Zheng Junli’s tedious, mammoth two part 1947 Yi jiang chun shui xiang dong liu / The Spring River Flows East /Tears of the Yang-Tse, representing it as the Chinese Gone with the Wind. This rambling soaper followed hapless village wife Yang Bai left to raise the children during the Japanese invasion while her shallow husband re-marries rich in the city. It’s one memorable scene has him arriving at the appointed time for his first day at his new job to find the clerks still sleeping on the benches where they had spent the night and only getting down to business a couple of hours later.

The Cultural Revolution’s dismantling of mainland film making had handed Chinese- speaking film to Hong Kong and, while the last products of the colony’s Cathay Production Company occasionally surfaced, the operation homed in on The Shaw Brothers who had wiped out the competition by their shift from Cantonese to Mandarin and from small screen to colour and “Shawscope”.
 












Among the circuit’s oldest off shore offerings was Li han hsiang’s 1963 cross dressing girl student opera Liang Shan Ba yu Zhu Ying Tai/ Liang Shan-po and Chu Ying-t'ai / The Love Eterne placing Ivy Lin-po, it’s fierce girl in drag heroine, against the effeminate male scholars. This film may have established the foundation for the Shaw’s “look” which would dominate the studio production and much of what was done around it. The great King Hu had a hand in that and Jackie Chan sang in the chorus. On a good day he will still burst into a few bars from its numbers.

Taiwanese weepies were a staple.  Richard Yao-Chi Chen’s 1977 Wo shi yi sha ou / Come Fly with Me, with Charlie Chin / Hsiang Lin Chin and the durable Brigitte Lin Ching-hsia, is about as watchable as they got. They also played the island’s more serious films, like Chang Yi’s 1985 Kuei-Mei, a Woman. 


There were new dynamics at play. Instead of worn out re-issues, impeccable recent releases began to dominate. With rare exceptions, even on their first showing in Hong Kong, these copies were sub-titled in Chinese to make Mandarin dialogue intelligible to Cantonese speakers and visa versa. It was simple to add a second line in English - with a character all of its own using “sinuses” for “synapses” and intransitive verbs with objects. They got better down the years till the two titled copy of Ronny Yu’s splendid 1993 Bai fa mo nu zhuan/ The Bride with White Hair was more literate than the single language one prepared for the English market.  
The Bride With White Hair - Brgitte Lin. 

These even came backed by English language literature, everything from office duplicator fanzines through the enthusiast Hong Kong Film Review to glossy news stand publications like Fighting Stars. The Bruce Lee phenomenon created a wide audience for Asian cinema and Anglo faces showed up in the audience here. These were the gym crowd. You could smell the liniment on the nights they showed the big martial arts movies.

Until the seventies we had heard the complaint that films were likely to be untranslated - something which had never stopped European Cinémathèque users. Even with the old excuse gone, Australians were intimidated by their notion of “the other.”  The “Alternative Cinema” demanded by activists was right under their noses. Academics and Journalists occasionally ventured in for a one off.  I  pointed out to the editor of Film News that the only way the Chinese films playing ten minutes walk away from the office appeared in their pages was when one of their writers saw them in a festival on the other side of the planet. Note that Ann Hui’ 1982 Tau ban no hoi / The Boat People, played here five months before it’s politics confused the heck out of audiences at Cannes. 


              Ann Hui's Boat People 
Exceptionally, inspired by the model of Time Magazine, Cinema Papers did do a Chinese movie issue and Melbourne’s Fatal Visions saw the Chinatown cinemas as part of their beat.  John Hinde brought out his “Other People’s Pictures” book.

While in this period, Hong Kong continued to make operas, crime movies and mother-love melos, their production was dominated by the Kung Fu / Gung Fu film (the phrase actually means skill and was also applied to gambling or even skin flicks) which carries with it the image of shirtless Bruce Lee thrashing extras in shoddy Golden Harvest actioners.


      
  Feng Hsu, Feng Tien & Roy Chao in King Hu's Ying chun ge zhi Fengbo.   
 
The Chinatown circuit opened out a whole new world, as with King Hu’s superior pioneering 1966 Long men ke zhen/Dragon Inn/ Dragon Gate Inn  where Hsu Feng and young Shankuan Lin- feng battle the heavies. Watching this (and it’s running mates), in a sharp prints drawn from the original negative, was a major corrective to seeing the dupey, re-voiced copies that were accepted as Chinese cinema of the day. King Hu’s work continued through the life of the circuit setting a standard that few of his competitors could match.
 
          36th Chamber -  Liu Chia Hui
Shaws did develop other wu hsia pian (sword fighting) film directors. The prolific, blood thirsty and uneven Chang Che (the She diao ying xiong chuan / Brave Archer trilogy with Fu Sheng, Hong Kong’s doomed James Dean ) along with Liu Chia-liang - include 1978’s Shao Lin san shi liu fang / The 36th Chamber of Shaolin with his brother - and particularly Chu Yuen, the one prominent survivor of the old Hong Kong Cantonese cinema, whose elegant  Chivalry cycle, derived from serial writer Ku Lung, included 1978’s Xiu hua da dao /Clan of Amazons with chameleon Yue Hwa and the 1977 Duo qing jian ke wu qing jian / Sentimental Swordsman with Ti Lung from scripts among the hundreds written by Ni Kwan. We could add Pau Hsue-li’s flamboyant 1977 Tian long ba bu / The Battle Wizard or Sun Chung’s 1977 Jue sha ling / Judgement of an Assassin among so many more.
Chu Yuen's San shao ye de jian   
 
With their impossible athletics, which Western critics loved to deride, and action set in studio fields demarcated with flowers, water wheels and the golden spotlight sun suspended in the sky, Shaw’s chivalry films are one of the most distinctive cycles ever filmed. It is a movie tragedy that they were confined to the Chinatown cinemas.

Their dominance promoted a reaction, a “Hong Kong New Wave” ushered in by the films of Ann Hui and the 1976 Tiaouhui/ Jumping Ash from Po-Chih Leong & Josephine Siao, to be followed by Tsui Hark (Ying hung boon sik / A Better Tomorrow 1986 ), John Woo (Dip huet gaai tau/ Bullet in the Head 1990),  Ronnie Yu (Ye ban ge sheng/ The Phantom Lover 1995),  Wong Kar-wai (Dung che sai du / Ashes of Time 1994) Ringo Lam (Xia dao Gao Fei / Full Contact 1992) and Clara Law (Ai zai bie xiang de ji jie / Farewell China 1990).

This cycle conferred an extraordinary stardom on Chow yun-fat working at an crushing rate (ten films in 1987, you can watch the strain age him on film) and dominating his industry to the point that the only information on his 1995 He ping fan dian / Peace Hotel poster was his frame filling face.
               City on Fire - Chow yun-fat
His rival for prominence in the Hong Kong films was of course the great Jackie Chan, who progressed from being another kung fu juvenile to replacing the late Bruce Lee as Golden Harvest’s market dominating comic action star, taking over direction of his films, even when he’d hired in people like Liu Chia-liang or Curt Wong to hold the reigns. Always impressive, the progress from Jackie’s  Xiao quan guai zhao / The Fearless Hyena (1979) to his fabulous English speaking Ngo si seoi / Who Am I? (1998) is fascinating, as the star was supported by a public daily waiting to hear that one of his authentic stunts had killed him.
                                              Sammo Hung & Jackie Chan in their 1983 A gai waak

Possibly even more impressive was his old class mate chubby Sammo Hung (Dung fong tuk ying /Eastern Condors 1987) who co-starred with Jackie in a number of their films and also directed and produced for his own Bojon company, proving to be a remarkable dramatic actor in non martial arts roles. Mabel Cheung’s 1989 Ba liang jin /  Eight Taels of Gold with Sylvia Chang is particularly poignant. It was agreeable to find that Sammo also valued this one. He had a good attitude. When I pointed out that a piece of business from his 1990 Zhi fen shuang xiong / Pantyhose Hero turned up in a Stephen Seagal movie he observed “They steal from us. We steal from them”. If he’d looked as good without a shirt as Jackie Chan, he might have been an even bigger star.

            Maggie Cheung.
With production dominated by action movies, they had to borrow leading ladies from comedies and weepies but glamorous Cherie Chung or the winning Maggie Cheung registered. To the cycle which began with petite Chen Pei pei as a female 
star action  we can add Angela Mao and, in a twist like India’s Fearless Nadia, blonde kick boxer Cynthia Rothrock became a Hong Kong action lead in her own right, as did Michelle Khan / Michelle Yeoh. Producers did try to continue female lead action movies like putting Michelle Yeoh, Maggie Cheung, and Anita Mui in  Johnnie To’s 1993 strip cartoon adventure Dong fang san xia / The Heroic Trio. 
 
                                               Angela Mao & Cynthia Rothrock (below, barefoot)         


 
In with these we got the comedians, another enjoyable cycle - the three Hui Brothers’ Mo deng bao biao / Security Unlimited / Private Eyes / Mr. Boo 1981 (the profusion of English titles is a problem with Hong Kong Film), Karl Mak (Zui jia pai dang / Aces Go Places series 1981 on), Dean Shek (John Woo’s Hua ji shi dai / Laughing Times 1981).

                                                Aces Go Places - Karl Mak & Silvia Chan

The Chinatown cinemas were dominated by Hong Kong. but they also found space for the odd Thai and Philippino movie. A few mainland films got an airing, including Ziniu Wu’s 1989  Wan zhong/ Evening Bell or the persistent Jin Xie’s 1985 Gao shan xia de hua huan / Garlands at the Foot of the Mountain.  
 
        Garlands at the Foot
        of the Mountain
.

The mainland knew that the Kung Fu film appealed to their audiences more than their own productions and sent a delegation to observe the then colony industry, returning scornful of the wire work and trampolines used in stunts. Hong Kong directors Li Han-hsiang and Liu Chia Liang went on to make films there, bringing greater sophistication than the local film makers and using the mobs of extras and authentic setting available. The mainlanders proudly announced their own Shaolin Temple movie, Hsin-Yen Chang’s 1982  Shao Lin si  with a sixteen year old gymnast named Jet Li heading up singing monks. Tianamen Square put an end to all that. Jet Li became Tsui Hark’s leading man.
 
                    Jet Li in Cory Yuen's Fong Sei Yu
After the seventies the Euro audience had melted away from the Chinese cinemas. If I saw another westerner in there, we would get into conversation about this departure from standard behaviour.  The audience for Chinese films became a replica of that of conventional cinemas, dominated by young people for whom the movies were their poplar culture - only with Asian faces. Soon we found second generation immigrants, often unable to understand the languages the cast were speaking. They wanted to see people like themselves presented glamorously. It was this audience which kept the doors open after the European chains drowned in alphabet soup - VHS, SBS, DVD. 

Jackie Chan in Stanley Tong’s 1995 Rumble in the Bronx stayed the most successful film in the U.S. for three weeks and ripples spread out from there, the Anglos came back again. Now it was trendy young couples but their interest was not enough to save the structure. The colony was ceded to the mainland in 1997 and a mechanism, which had provided an unbroken thirty year line of vibrant, accomplished, popular Asian cinema, disintegrated world wide, to the dismay of  it’s participants and surviving viewers, taking the ethnic cinema business with it. Auditoria emptied of an audience uninvolved by the
last catch penny productions. Just as there had been a definite beginning in the fifties the new century ruled off the activity.

Jackie Chan - Sammo's 
Qi mou miao ji: Wu fu xing
 
The Hong Kong films had not been an insignificant body of work, becoming the world’s number two source of movies, passing the Indians. Jackie Chan, without his ever appearing in a film festival, was by then the most famous actor in human history. 
The big Hong Kong stars and directors fled to Hollywood, where only John Woo thrived, though Sammo Hung landed a TV series and Chow Yun-fat had his greatest success in Ang Lee’s 2000 Wo hu cang long / Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon his first kung fu role. Clara Law tried Australia and Michelle Yeoh became a Bond girl. Johnnie To, Wong Ka-wai and comedian-director Stephen Chow remain major film makers, with Ann Hui and Tsui Hark still in production. 

                                    Ann Hui
Of course it did not stop overnight. The business shifted into ethnic VHS stores often using the old theatrical prints as originals, with their sub-titles now become tiny. This too would fade with the shift to DVD. I found the sheriff sealing one store I dealt with.

These National screenings had been  particularly notable for their audience  participation, something that viewing productions on any kind of home screen will never match. There was the mumble of recognition which greeted the shot of the three black wearing women spinning thread in the town square in the Macedonian film or the container jails in The Boat People. Hostile audiences shifted and muttered at the shots of the Marxist demonstrations in Güney’s Izin and the local Chinese  cheered when the rocket attacks repulsed the Vietnamese “the Cubans of the East” in the mainland documentary Counter Attacks in Self Defence. I remember glancing at the audience in the screening of the Argentinean movie where the family, resettled in the US, talked about their old home with the smell of the dish cloths drying after being washed, while they now threw them away. This one really connected with the expats. Everyone in the row was crying.
 
         Stanley Kwan's Rouge - Leslie Cheung, Anita Mui. 
Cherry picking the ethnic shows wasted the opportunity they represent. In particular the Hong Kong films were a unique two decades chance to familiarise yourself with  an entire national film production in ideal conditions. Australia became the best place in the

world to see Asian film. Sydney-Melbourne was better than Hong Kong or Tokyo, or London or New

 York. Double feature programming bringing back earlier successes meant that it became likely to catch the best work repeatedly. 
 



By the time it was finished, I was working on my second thousand viewings, making these more familiar to me than anything since the Hollywood films I grew up with.  





Even with the old sub-title old excuse gone, Australians had been intimidated by their notion of  alien. The odd art film lovers may have made their way to Redfern Lawson to see the local premiere of Michael Cacoyannis’ 1958 To teleftaio psema / A Matter of Dignity or caught up with the inherited copies De Sica double feature of Ladri di biciclette / Bicycle Thieves and Miricalo in Milan but their numbers were negligible. Few spotted beautiful titled copies longer than the art house versions of Franco Rossi’s Smog and Zurlini’s 1961 La ragazza con la valigia / Girl with a Suitcase. People who spoke the name of  Nic Ray or Pedro Almodivar with reverence thought Sergio Corbucci or Chu Yuen must be Polo Players and they were scornful of any suggestion that they were missing out. 

Chow Yun Fat, Full Contact

 
When it was all over what remained? The buildings were re-purposed, and more significant, the libraries went to the tip. These could have given Canberra a giant bargaining chip, offering viewing copies for overseas Cinémathèques. Canberra solved that problem by wiping out our own Cinémathquès.

In the post-Rumble in the Bronx era, SBS’s Movie show belatedly found the Chinese theatres. Without press books, the presenters spent time discussing the inferiority of the sub-titles against the station’s own, while ignoring Teddy Robin, Roy Chow and the other major Character actors on screen in Chi Leung 'Jacob' Cheung’s  impressive Cageman.
  
I did run a couple of one off screenings and a small season here but I’d be surprised to meet anyone who remembered them.  These, a few academic essays and the memories of the now middle aged fans who sought the  material out are a miserable legacy to such a huge, unique opportunity. 

The effect of all forms of censorship had contributed.  One Australian distributor closed down because the classification fee became more than the likely returns on a film. Ethnic importers appeared to be feeling official disapproval more than main stream competitors, their films frequently banned. Argento’s ground breaking Suspiria was held up for years when in the hands of an ethnic distributor and opened with a minor deletion weeks after it passed to Fox. Distributor Joe Siu, to his eternal credit, appealed these decisions
retrieving items like Michael Mak’s slick 1988 hostess club drama  Sun Moon & Stars /Yue liang, xing xing, tai yang. 

                                    Massage Girls.
The Greeks had had quite good returns on soft core but gave it up under community pressure. This didn’t inhibit the Chinese distributors, who featured the Category Three “Hong Kong Torture Porn” that Bart refers to in the Simpsons episode written by Judd Apatow. Some of the Chinese skin flicks, like veteran Fan Ho’s 19819 Ye ji qing / Erotic Nights, had a good standard of production, which is more can be said for the grungey Philippino girlie movies the theatres found a place for.

The traffic went the other way too. Films forbidden in their original markets showed to curious audiences here. Hector Olivera’s 1974 La Patagonia rebelde / Rebellion in Patagonia was banned in it’s native Argentina, considered subversive showing the 1921 strike against the English cattle barons settled by the military. Hector Alterio gives an impressive performance in that one. Mainland  protests led to the disappearance of  a cycle of films critical of the Cultural Revolution which did air here,  the 1981 Chia-ju wo shih chen-te /If I Were for Real, an adaptation of  “The Inspector General”, Shang Hai she hui dang an / On the Society File of Shanghai also 1981 and more impressively Huang tian hou tu / The Coldest Winter in Peking  fusing a Doctor Zhivago rip off with a large scale depiction of faction fighting in Mao’s China - Red Guards chanting “Down with panty hose wearing Imperialists” as they wave their little red books in the air.


Since the US segregation laws in the 1940s put the Black cinemas out of business, no one has made films specifically for ethnic circuits, though Greek film distributor Chris Louis did examine the possibilities of making a feature to show in his theatres here. The films that made up ethnic programs were made for other audiences, tailored to more significant markets, but they do have a community which marks them off from films in most other forms of distribution. 

The experience of the Ethnic Cinema chains highlight some major divisions. There is one between “commercial” film, which often has as little relationship with profit as it’s rival, “art” film often has with artistry. The ethnic houses dealt in popular film. Theo Angelopolis or Federico Fellini were not at home here. Francesco Rosi’s 1959 I magliari / The Swindlers showed up more for the Alberto Sordi connection than as a late bloomer neo realist item. Anything cerebral got little sympathy. Gian Maria Volonté and Anouk Aime in Gianfranco De Bosio's  Terrorista languished at the back of a Perth projection box for months while the theatre ran Franco and Ciccio movies. The cut version of King Hu’s magisterial 1979 Shan zhong zhuan qi / Legend of the Mountain did get a brief run because it was a prestige piece of Chinese culture but Tony Au’s  Nan Jing de ji du / Christ of nanjing (1995) never saw the light of a projector despite being trailered for months. Even after Boat People,  probably the greatest success in the Asian cinemas, Ann Hui’s 1990 Ketu qiuhen/ Song of the Exile  (her best film) did one week of a two week’s season and was never seen again.

  Sien lui yau wan III: Joey Wang 

This barrier is porous however. Seeing them run in the ‘States, Valhalla ran a three on a day of Tsui Hark’s Chinese Ghost Story cycle. When Celestial put them out on DVD, the Shaw Brothers wu hsia pian were printed up and did the festival circuit which had ignored them during the decades of their production. When in the cycle’s decline, Jackie Chan’s New Police Story did finally play Sydney Film Festival, the audience whooped with delight and people asked me where this great athlete comedian had sprung from - this years after he’d made two films here. Corbucci’s Franco Nero “Zapata Spaghetti Westerns” Compaños and Il mercenario made it into multiplex distribution and for a while there your neighbourhood Odeon was likely to run a Kung Fu double or a Terence Hill cowboy movie. Note a significant connection with another movie popular movie phenomenon which blossomed in  the same period. Many of the ethnic circuit titles turned up dubbed in the Drive-Ins - spaghetti westerns, kung fu movies and Italian comedy. The week I showed up in Perth, Jose Mariano’s dubbed copy of the Paul Naschy Fear Rises from the Tomb was playing. I thought things weren’t going to be so bad after all. Bad guess! The only sub-titled film to get mainstream distribution while I was there was Annie Giradot as Docteur Françoise Gaillard and that because the distributor sent the wrong copy. I became very grateful for the ethnic shows.

This was pre-Internet. The films had arrived with no documentation beyond some often battered lobby cards (Chinese front of house material was  particularly excellent) and  maybe an inaccurate synopsis. Even though copies may be sub-titled, the credits were frequently not transliterated. I saw the early work of Tsui Hark and Wong Kar-wei without connecting them to form a picture of their makers. I was dependent on the staff for information but I didn’t encounter “The Other.” People who had no contact with one another were (with the exception of one snotty Korean video store that didn’t last) uniformly pleasant to deal with, helping me identify participants and giving me details on the holdings and prospective attractions. I felt that they were amused but rather pleased that someone was taking an interest in their activities. I recognised an agreeable, familiar sensation - being a tourist.

That was it for movie multi culturalism in action. A few subsidy dollars, a bit of  enterprising journalism and we could have had a whole lot more. Myself, I miss the days when at One O’clock in the morning I’d be sitting with Asian waiters and trainee weight lifters watching young Chen Chen as The Girl With the Dextrols Touch.