Not the sequel to Come Drink with Me you might be expecting, but a damn fine tale of heroic chivalry from Zhang Che…

Director Zhang Che had some novel ideas about courtship. You’d think, for instance, that slicing off the arm of the person you fancy is not the best way into their heart. (And in that case you’d be right, as seen in One-Armed Swordsman.) Golden Swallow trumps that, as the main protagonist trounces members of an evil gang and leaves her ‘calling card’, a golden pin, behind so she gets the blame. All so she’ll come looking for him.

You might have expected that the principal character would be the Golden Swallow of the title. Of course, with director Zhang Che taking over the reins from King Hu, a female led story wasn’t really an option. And so Cheng Pei-pei reprises her role as Golden Swallow from the brilliant Come Drink with Me only to have it marginalised in favour of Jimmy Wang Yu’s heroic, if somewhat damaged figure Hsiao Pao.

Hsiao, also known as Silver Roc, was orphaned as a child and trained in the martial arts with Swallow, the only person he’d ever truly made a connection with. Revenge on the criminals who murdered his family has brought him no solace, and he wages a righteous though merciless justice on evildoers. Between times he spends frequenting brothels, where he has become particularly sweet on a girl called Mei Liang (Chao Hsiu Yen). (The suggestion being he doesn’t feel worthy of Swallow’s affection.)

The tranquil existence Swallow has found with ‘Golden Whip’ Han Tao (Lo Lieh) is quickly shattered as Roc’s plan comes to fruition and the Golden Dragon gang come looking for her. Han Tao and Swallow in turn go looking for the root of their problem, suspecting Roc’s rather convoluted plot, and they all unite to fight off the might of the Golden Dragon clans forces together – but are they enough?

This is the themes of heroic chivalry taken to there most extreme form, where losing face is by far the worst thing that can happen – itself a very Chinese trait. In many respects the film is simply a darker take on Zhang Che’s own Trail of the Broken Blade. Wang Yu plays almost exactly the same role he did there, but this time brings with him all the inner torment he conveyed in One-Armed Swordsman. This flawed, rather tragic hero is definitely the prototype for the leads in Che’s films such as Vengeance! and Blood Brothers. These angry young men, unable to accept authority, hell bent on self-destruction, are the bastard sons of James Dean and Marlon Brando. The male heroes/anti-heroes of American cinema Che loved so much.

In the Hong Kong of the late sixties it really struck a chord, and Zhang Che’s films became incredibly popular. His influence on local cinema was immense, as his vision of rebellious and quite frankly dysfunctional, young male leads would take over a screen previously dominated by women. Che’s male characters became a template for Hong Kong movies, much to the determent of female characters who would be lucky to get a strong positive role throughout the 70s.

Suddenly the biggest stars were Bruce Lee, David Chang and Ti Lung. Since then this sort of mixed up character has become very much a staple of HK cinema, it even parallels many of the leads in Wong Kar-wai movies like Days of Being Wild and Ashes of Time. Like Leslie Cheung’s character in first of those films, the audience realises that Silver Roc’s self-destructive streak will ultimately sow the seed of his own downfall. His existence is purely to live and die as a swordsman with honour. It’s a complete contrast to Wang Yu’s role in One-Armed Swordsman, who is simply chopping wood like a peasant or farmer when we first meet him. Though that character has the abilities, he really doesn’t want to BE a swordsman, and in the end he comes to that conclusion.

Silver Roc is, in many ways, a tragic, even pathetic figure, but Che lavishes time idolising him in a heroic death. In comparison the far more stable character of Han Tao, superbly underplayed by Lo Lieh, is shown as something of a sissy – just because he would maim rather than kill, unless entirely necessary. Paralleled by the Andy Lau character twenty years later in Days of Being Wild, director Kar-wai has the last word on Che’s leads, as Lau berates Cheung for all the pain he’s caused by being selfish.

Of course, Che didn’t really have much (screen) time for women, hence his attitude towards them. So it’s hard to associate the feisty, stubborn Golden Swallow of Come Drink with Me with the rather flimsy, more emotionally charged girl Cheng Pei-pei plays here. Getting any kind of equality was an uphill struggle.

Pei-pei has recounted how Che wanted her to simply walk through a door whilst her co-stars Lo Lieh and Wang Yu jumped out of a window. Why wouldn’t a swordswoman have equal prowess to a swordsman she argued. Threatening to walk out of the film she complained to Shaw Brothers producer Raymond Chow (who would later set up rival movie company Golden Harvest) and finally got her own way. The result being that her character actually emerges better than most female characters in a Zhang Che movie, and even gets to kick some bad guy butt.

Possibly inspired by tying to keep up with King Hu, this is one of Zhang Che’s most beautiful and adventurous movies. The pre-title sequence uses a sort of split screen effect – actually the action seen through a mask – which doesn’t entirely work but is brave nonetheless. More of this movie takes place in the real world than in any of his other pictures, and the setting for Han Tao’s hideaway is almost impossibly idyllic, complete with waterfall.

With some neat action sequences, Golden Swallow is a fine example of heroic chivalry that pales only when compared to Come Drink with Me. This is a must for new fans of movies like Hero and Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon.

DVD details

Distributor: IVL (Hong Kong)

Another fab restoration job from Celestial Pictures has this movie looking and sounding the business, and it includes some extras.

Related and associated posts

This entry was published by Andy H on Wednesday, December 1st, 2004 at 2:24 pm and is filed under Films, Hong Kong, Reviews, Wuxia / Swordplay. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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