REVIEW: ‘The Bastard’ (1973)

Chinese boxing and engaging drama converge in THE BASTARD, a rare and intimate pairing of celebrated Shaw Brothers director Chor Yuan and Yuen Wo-ping in one of his first action directing gigs.

Chor’s greatest asset as a genre director is his ability to weave kung fu into a well-crafted story that justifies the action, a talent all too rare among his peers. In this case, Chung Wa (KILLER CLANS) sheds his heroic image to play a nameless young man raised and trained in kung fu by an aged hermit. In the only training sequence you witness during the opening credits, he is instructed to be able to use anything as a weapon if necessary (more on that later).

Chung Wa ventures into the world for the first time in order to find his family and saves a scruffy-looking girl from men intent on taking advantage of her. Lily Li is a spunky beggar in a role reminiscent of Polly Kuan’s charming character in BACK ALLEY PRINCESS, minus martial arts ability. The two become friends and Lily uses her street smarts to help Chung adjust to life among people.

As Chung continues his search for his parents with the aid of Lily, the men he had beaten return to their master, Gu Chang-bo (Cheng Miu) to set a trap for him. Once the trap is sprung, they realize that he strongly resembles Gu’s son and that he may be a lost brother.

From this point on, Chung is treated very well in Gu’s household and is even seduced by his attractive cousin. But not all is as it seems and Lily, who is distraught over Chung’s fling with his wily cousin, is the first to notice. When Chung is betrayed by his own father, Lily comes to his aid. Subsequently, Chung is unable to do the same for her and goes for revenge, despite his reluctance to harm others.

THE BASTARD refreshingly breaks out of the mold of mindless revenge plots and convoluted swordplay epics to offer a small scale, story-driven film with a sober moral that translates well in any language.

Chung Wa is in one of his best roles. After appearing in one swordplay film after another, he came to be typecast as the enigmatic killer with a wide-brimmed hat whose only task was to dole out pain and icy stares. But here he actually gets to act. His character has grown up with only his hermit master as companion and thus is thoroughly unschooled in the ways of human behavior. He’s slow to learn, especially when feminine wiles are involved. Due to his social dysfunctions, he plays the victim for most of the film, despite the fact that his kung fu skill cannot be matched. Only when it’s too late, does he come around and unleash his full potential as a fighter. But even then, he continues to play a character that is hesitant to harm others. It may sound reasonable, but having this kind of selective reasoning is rare in this genre where body counts are often high.

The most memorable moment in the film finds Chung Wa dangling at the end of his moral reserve when he screams for all hired thugs to get lost so that he will only have to harm those who truly deserve it. It’s a great moment, brought to you by the genius of Chor Yuan.

Likewise, kung fu queen Lily Li also gets one of her better roles. This was still during the period when she generally played non-combatants, but she displays enough character to make up for her lack of fighting. The irony of her character being the strongest of conviction, but also the most emotionally unstable is wonderfully staged. She’s a beauty who leaps off the screen in most of her roles, but especially in this one. Be warned though, she does endure some unsavory treatment at the hands of four thugs and the director pulls few punches, although thankfully without being graphic.

With Yuen Wo-ping and brother Cheung-yan on call as choreographers, it’s virtually guaranteed that the action is good. Good, but not great. There is no emphasis on style or form and trampolines are used liberally. The Yuen Clan comes from Peking Opera roots where acrobatics rule. There are a lot of flips and leaps, but the actual foot and leg work emulates the kind of straightforward style that dominated classic kung fu films of the early ’70s. There is very little in the way of creative choreography or camera angles that defined their later work.

It doesn’t help that there are no notable kung fu actors playing villains. Chung Wa does a decent job in the lead, but without an equal, the final fight just becomes unhinged as the villains attempt to run away. The one very nice exception is when he briefly faces Wu Chih-ching wielding two swords, with nothing but a thin reed. This brings us back to his training at the beginning of the film. This unraveling melee may be a little disappointing for action buffs, but it works well dramatically.

There is an air of fatalism to THE BASTARD that projects a sad statement about evil and innocence, wealth and poverty. This film almost better resembles Japanese cinema which is usually more adept at dramatically portraying the human condition and its ugly side in period action films. The kung fu only plays a part in this film, rather than dominating it. But with top performances by Chung Wa and Lily Li, this is a great little gem that should not be overlooked for lack of gratuitous bloodletting.