REVIEW: ‘The Assassin’ (1967)

If Chang Cheh, the godfather of modern martial arts movies, ever directed a true genre masterpiece then this is it. THE ASSASSIN finds this former film critic at the top of his game, both as a writer and a director. This historical wuxia pian was released at the end of 1967, a banner year for Chang and leading man Jimmy Wang Yu after Shaw Brothers studio had also released the ONE-ARMED SWORDSMAN and GOLDEN SWALLOW. These are certainly swordplay classics featuring rousing action for their day, but THE ASSASSIN stands out even further for putting Chang’s best storytelling at the fore.

Like Zhang Yimou’s HERO, this film is set near the end of China’s Warring States Period as the Qin solidify their dominance over neighboring states, leading to China’s eventual unification under its first emperor in 221 BC. RECORDS OF THE GRAND HISTORIAN, the only recorded history of this era cites a number of skilled warriors who distinguished themselves during this time of conflict. THE ASSASSIN follows a plot involving one of these heroes.

Nie Zheng (Jimmy Wang Yu) is a low-born sword student of high virtue, who restlessly dreams of fulfilling some great destiny. His longtime friend and sweetheart Xia Ying (Chiao Chiao) simply wants the two of them to live happily together. But destiny indeed has great and terrible things in store for them both. When a bitter rival student and member of the Qin court (Chang Pei-shan) is thrown out of the school for displaying un-swordsmanship-like behavior, he accuses the school of rebellion against the state and returns with soldiers to wipe them out. It’s a massacre that only Nie and his friend Du Po (Cheng Lei) escape. They agree to go their separate ways, but not before dealing with the traitor responsible for their school’s destruction.

Unable to find Xia Ying, Nie flees to a neighboring state with his sister and mother and restlessly settles down as a lowly butcher. Du Po becomes a sword instructor to the son of Official Yen Chung-tzu (Tien Feng) of the Qin state. He’s eventually killed while defending Yen from assassins hired by Premier Han Kui (Wong Chung-shun) to get rid of the official for political reasons. Having heard about Nie Zheng’s superior swordsmanship, Yen goes in search of him in hopes of convincing Nie to assassinate the Premier, to rid the state of a tyrant and to get revenge for the death of his son, also killed during the attempt on his life.

Unlike most of his other martial arts movies, Chang Cheh takes great care to develop his leading character and his relationships without using violence as his chief tool. This has a powerful impact on the film’s climatic confrontation as Nie Zheng battles his way to the Premier. Wang Yu’s character is a man in constant internal conflict. He’s a peasant who is filial to his mother, faithful to his true love and protective of his sister, but deep down he’s driven to greatness, no matter what the consequences may hold for him. He finds what he’s looking for in the opportunity to assassinate the Qin premier, but it’s not that simple. He cannot turn his back on his family and struggles with his love for Xia Ying. By the time that the situation changes so that he is free to act, years have passed and Nie Zheng has transformed from a wishful young sword student into a passionate and cunning warrior, whose spirit burns twice as bright.

Chang’s direction, which shows signs of more artistic influences than usual, is methodical and precise in setting a dramatic tone. The struggles are more internalized this time around, at least for the middle act. Chang doesn’t have Nie Zheng going through any simplistic training exercises to master his assassination techniques. Nie is already as proficient in sword skill as he needs to be, as evidenced early on in his sparring. Instead, Chang ingeniously shows how the official begins “training” Nie for the role of playing a nobleman to fool the Qin into letting him get close. It’s done in such a subtle way that it appears as if Nie is being treated well only because of the bond his forms with the wealthy official, who genuinely regrets to see him go. The acting of Wang Yu and Tien Feng, best known for his elder role in FIST OF FURY, are quite good in fleshing out this complex relationship.

The cinematography in conjunction with Chang’s direction on this film is excellent. Shaw Brothers’ efforts to get the best talent behind the camera at this time really paid off. There are none of the fast zoom-ins that characterize many of Chang Cheh’s more action-oriented films. The use of smooth, 90-degree panning rotations is unusual and shows about the highest level of technical skill the studio has ever exhibited in this regard. It’s also nice to see that Chang slows things down a little camera-wise, to let a scene sink in. A terrific example is when Wang Yu nervously waits for the arrival of Chiao Hsin-yen, as a concubine, to his room. We get a static shot of his perspective from the bed that lingers on departing attendants and Chiao’s slow emergence from the shadows.

Chang later makes use of a visual metaphor in Nie Zheng’s consummation of love with Xia Ying. The two are transported back to a grassy field, which had always been their shared sanctuary as children and young adults. Chang was fond of using visual metaphor early in his directing career and did so notably with bloody violence in VENGEANCE! and THE HEROIC ONES.

Martial arts action mostly appears in the first and third acts. It’s not constant, so anyone looking for a pure martial arts extravaganza like most of Chang’s latter films may be disappointed. The swordplay of Tang Chia and Lau Kar-leung is superb for its day, but appears dated now. Wang Yu uniformly cuts down four assailants with a single blow at least twice, which looks a bit silly. The ending is fantastic though, truly one of the most thrilling examples of heroic bloodshed. Alone, Wang Yu storms into the Premier’s palace to battle dozens of guards. The whole presentation is picture perfect. Wang Yu strikes classic poses as he coolly cuts down his enemies, while additional forces marshal against him. He ends up in what seems like a raging sea of men intent of killing him, but none can.

Backing up the visuals are some great musical selections (greatly mangled by Celestial’s dreadful remixing). In one more display of his wide-ranging abilities, Chang Cheh wrote lyrics for a piece that plays during a beautifully-staged ceremony as Nie Zheng, dressed in white, prepares to embark on his deadly mission. Another piece is a reoccurring theme entitled “Guang Ling San.” It’s a driving stringed number with historical context that Chang uses to represent the assassin’s sword skill. A more recognizable tune used in several place is theme music borrowed from the James Bond movie YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE.

If only Shaw Brothers had consistently maintained or built on the quality found in THE ASSASSIN in their 1970s and ’80s films, they probably would have never left film production. No doubt, their competition with rival studio Cathay and its sophisticated output had a big impact on the quality of their films during the late 1960s.

THE ASSASSIN also provides an interesting contrast to HERO that is worth looking at. Chang covered the same historical subject remarkable well considering that the wuxia pian hand only just begun to evolve from the simple Cantonese-language tales of swashbuckling heroines and pure fantasy.