If you ever wanted to know where Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon came from you only need to know one name, King Hu. This ground breaking film, possibly one of the greatest of the martial chivalry genre, started it all…
When western audiences saw Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon in 2000 they were truly dazzled by it’s effects and stunning imagery. To Eastern audiences, however, it must have seemed somewhat old fashioned. Brought up from childhood with ancient tales like the Outlaws of the Marsh (The Water Margins) and Journey to the West (Monkey), surrounded by Wuxia (swordplay) and martial arts in novels, films and TV programs, they’d seen it all before. More specifically, they had seen it all in a trio of films made over thirty years earlier by a ground breaking director called King Hu. His ‘Inn trilogy’ would take these magical worlds and make them a reality for the first time. Yet it took Ang Lee’s homage to bring his name to public attention, sadly some three years after his death.
Before Come Drink With Me Hong Kong swordplay movies were quite a different breed, far closer to the stylised theatrical acting and fighting seen in Chinese Opera productions. A breath of fresh air, it dealt these films with a maturity and a scope of vision never seen before.
In Come Drink With Me Cheng Pei-pei plays the legendary Golden Swallow, come to free the Governors son, her brother, from the clutches of a villainous gang of bandits aiming to swap him for their captured leader. In one of the greatest set pieces in Hong Kong cinema, Golden Swallow enters an inn frequented by the bandits who are not only unaware of who she is but also that she is in fact a woman. (One element of the story we must take with a pinch of salt, as it’s difficult to see the beautiful young Cheng Pei-pei, then only about 18, could be thought of as anything else.) Gradually, as the outlaws goad her, she shows just how powerful she is. Catching coins flung at her on a chopstick. Easily deflecting a wooden bench and a heavy wine jug hurled at her with just one hand. When two members throw coins above her she impales them to the ceiling using three chopsticks, then casually opens her fan to catch them as they fall. When a bandit asks for his money back, she chucks them on the wall, forming the shape of a swallow and revealing her identity. Amazed, they still inadvisedly decide to take her on, disturbed only by the sudden appearance of a beggar known as Drunken Cat (Yueh Hua), and promptly lose.
Drunken Cat seems to be a bumbling fool, but soon reveals there’s more to him. Saving Swallow from an assassination effort that evening, he proves himself just as adept at jumping up to high gantries and over rooftops. He also hints the bandits location in song under the guise of entertaining the inn’s customers. Something of a guardian angel, he helps her unseen during her confrontation at the bandits hideout. Vastly outnumbered, she still gets the better of their No. 2 Jade Faced Tiger, but falls victim to one of his poison darts (fired from his fan) on her escape.
Drunken Cat saves her from being found by the outlaws, hiding her in his home. There is no cure for the poison, however, meaning he must suck it out (in a very sexually charged scene – particularly for Hong Kong in the mid 60s). As Swallow is recovering she realises that Drunken Cat is a great master, the most powerful martial artist she has ever known. His mortal enemy is a rouge Abbott who has allied himself with the outlaws. Both shared the same master, but it was Drunken Cat who took their teachers powerful bamboo spear. Drunken Cat organises the exchange, and the stage is set for the final showdown not only between Swallow and the bandits, but himself and the Abbott.
Come Drink With Me was King Hu’s first wuxia/swordplay movie, and to it he brought a truly fresh approach and vision, made possible by his incredible skill as a filmmaker. Influenced by the work of Akira Kurosawa, Hu brings a bloody, violent reality to fight scenes that had previously been far more stylised affairs based on those in Chinese Operas. Full of scope and complexity that hadn’t been seen before in Hong Kong films. The acting is more restrained showing that, like Kurosawa, Hu also had a more ‘European’ sensitivity. In fact, Hu deliberately picked young actors, new to film making, so he could mould exactly the performances he wanted from them. Yet he still manages a nod to the history of Chinese entertainment, including a musical scene that’s made integral to the plot.
Considering the resources available at the time, Hu’s technical ability surpasses that of nearly any other director. His use of camera tricks brings magical, superhuman powers to life in such a way that you believe the impossible. Frequently using techniques such as reversing and speeding up film and most importantly very clever editing – he had a great awareness of just how much, and more often how little, was needed to convince the viewer of what has happened. You’ll believe someone can run straight up a wall (one of many items Ang Lee borrowed). He also innovated the use of trampolines, with real martial artists jumping high into the air. The effect is more realistic than the more stylised wirework which dominated the eighties.
His technical ability also shows itself in how well made the film is generally. The use of pulleys manoeuvring the camera around a scene are as sophisticated as anything happening in the west. Hu uses the entire screen, not just the centre. With compositions that fill the screen, Hu often plays with the audience rather than patronises them, a character might be seen fleetingly in a corner. The result shows how beautifully a story can be told.
One of her first movies, Cheng Pei-pei (Thundering Sword, Golden Swallow, Wing Chun) makes such a convincing female swordsman it’s easy to see why this film catapulted her into a long run of similar roles. Yuan Hua (Killer Clans, The Twelve Gold Medallions) also delights by not overplaying what initially appears to be a comic role, which would have undermined his later revelation. In fact, initially his performance is not unlike that of Masaaki Sakai in the famous Monkey series form Japan. (Yueh had played that role two years earlier in the film that influenced the series, Monkey Goes West.) Though the role was originally intended for King Hu himself who, from Cheng’s account, had a tendency to spend much of his time drunk.
The cast itself reads like a who’s who of Hong Kong movies. Ching Siu-tung, who would later make some of the most innovative wuxia movies since Hu including A Chinese Ghost Story, Swordsman II and Duel To The Death appears as the child spying on the outlaws in their temple hideout. The assistant action director to Han Yingjie was a young Sammo Hung, and one of Hung’s best friends Jackie Chan also appears as one of the children. Yuen Siu-tui, who would later play a Drunken Master himself opposite Chan, plays one of the bandits. Sui-tui’s son, Yuen Woo-ping, would become the action director on Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon and if the connection needed to be made any clearer, Cheng Pei-pei played that films villainous Jade Fox.
It’s impossible imagine what kind of impact it must have had when first shown in Hong Kong, but with the terrific restoration job that has been done on it, Come Drink With Me looks as fresh as ever. Not only does it not reflect the passing of over 36 years since its completion, if anything it looks more modern than Crouching Tiger. A must for anyone who loved that film, not just fans of the genre.
Hu split with the Shaw Brothers to make the Dragon Inn (1968) and A Touch of Zen (1971) in Taiwan. A meticulous filmmaker, he would hardly have found himself at ease in a highly commercially based studio system that expected directors to churn out film after film. Infamously Touch of Zen took 3 years to make, and at three hours long is not your usual Wuxia film by any means, dealing with far more complicated themes.
Dragon Inn was even more influential than Come Drink, and Touch of Zen even gained international acclaim, winning a special technical award at Cannes Film Festival that year. But into the 70s Hu found greater difficulty getting the backing needed to make the films he wanted to. Kung Fu rather than swordplay was chief and the Hong Kong film industry was desperate to find the next Bruce Lee. Wuxia as a genre had become tired and unpopular, and it wasn’t until ‘new wave’ directors like Tsui Hark and Ching Siu-tung rejuvenated the genre in the eighties that audiences took note again.
Sadly, though greatly respected by this new generation, Hu found himself dismissed from what was to be his comeback film, the Tsui Hark produced Swordsman (1990). (Unoffically, though completed by other members of Hark’s production company including Hark himself, Sui-tung and Ann Hui only Hu was credited as director.) His last film was to be Painted Skin, though even when he died in 1997 he was attempting to get a new film funded.
Though most audience may only be aware of his impact through Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, King Hu’s influence is ingrained in every Hong Kong and action film since. Truly one of the twentieth centuries greatest filmmakers.
SOURCES: The Making of Martial Arts Films – as told by filmmakers and stars (1999, Hong Kong), Interviews from the Celestial Pictures DVD release of Come Drink With Me.
DVD details
Distributor:IVL (Hong Kong)
Perhaps the fullest package to come out of the Celestial Pictures restoration work on the Shaw Brothers movies, work that means the film look better than they would have even on their original release.
This not only has a remarkable, sharp transfer of the film with a crisp stereo soundtrack - but also plenty of extras! These include a full audio commentary by Hong Kong Legends favourtie Bey Logan and Cheng Pei-pei, lots of interviews with the cast and even Cheng Pei-pei's daughter. Superb value for money and a flim that you have to own in your DVD collection!
