Two friends trained as swordsmen under the same master reluctantly find themselves on opposing sides when the Emperor is overthrown. Now, one is assassinating traitorous government officials and the other is ordered to hunt him down.

Sword in the Moon is a solid example of the swordplay genre in Korea’s New Wave cinema. It’s full of moody and sacrificial heroes who are larger than life and entwined in dramatic plots. It also contains richly-stylized visuals and blood-splattering levels of martial violence masterfully orchestrated by Hong Kong action movie veterans Kim Won-jin and Yuen Bun. What is lacks, however, are engaging characters who remain swamped in an unnecessarily complex presentation of an otherwise simple plot.

In 17th-century Korea, students of the Clear Wind Shining Moon sword school are recruited by the government to protect the capital, root our rebels and defend their borders from foreign aggressors. All goes well until someone decides to overthrow the emperor and use his own troops to do it. Choi Min-su plays the finest swordsman among these forces who is forced to swear loyalty to their traitorous usurper and thereby become the enemy of his best friend and a loyalist defender of Seoul, played by Jo Jae-hyeon. The two end up locked in battle as the city falls to the attackers and Jo seemingly falls to Choi’s sword. Once the new government assumes power an assassin begins targeting top officials with gruesome efficiency. Choi is ordered to stop him before he reaches the new Emperor and soon discovers his old friend isn’t dead after all.

Now that plot doesn’t seen so confusing, but Jang Min-seok’s script goes out of its way to flip all of it out of sequential order in what appears to be an attempt to make this out to be more artsy than it needs to be. All complaints could be set aside had it been done well. In short, the flashback technique is overused and abused. The many battles, though well shot, end up blending together and losing impact as the narrative jumps around to different fights. What’s worse is that our heroes and anti-heroes rarely speak or emote anything beyond grim resolve and when they do, it’s melodramatic and thoroughly unconvincing.

The focus is on Choi’s character who speaks of being “adaptable” which turns out to be his weakness for he becomes a reluctant, but able lackey under Korea’s new management. Haunted by his fight with Jo, he gristles passively when ordered to kill or torture other rebels, yet sticks to his mission. The whole story hinges on him finally reaching a life-or-death point where he has a chance to make the right decision and live up to the principles taught by his master. Yet the late build up and turning point is dramatically overblown and unsatisfying story and action-wise.

This is apparently director Kim Ui-seok’s first foray into the action genre, let alone period swordplay. On production, his film matches other recent Korean swordplay films like Bichunmoo and Musa where elaborate costuming, picturesque settings and exaggerated martial heroics mix with the tone of a historical epic like Braveheart. He doesn’t hold back on the action either. Fellow Korean Kim Won-jin (Operation Scorpio) and Hong Konger Yuen Bun (Throw Down) were obviously kept busy choreographing all of the film’s many fight scenes. It’s interesting to watch because you’ll see elements of both Japanese chambara and Chinese wuxia pien. That’s not to infer that Korean cinema lacks its own distinctive action style, which appears in the meticulous presentation and stylized editing process. Honestly, there are too many quick cuts and blur-like motion for me, but it’s generally well-used. Though not action stars by trade, Choi and Jo both handle themselves well onscreen. Wire use is either very subtle for the most part or not present as the tone of the action favors realism over comic book inspiration. There is is one short rooftop face-off that possesses shades of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and The Duel. It’s too bad some of the action takes place at night with poor lighting which makes the scenes hard to see.

Something else that sets this film’s action part from most Chinese swordplay movies is the gore. Since this is no tale of knightly valor or love with even a hint of humor, but rather one of doggedly fighting one’s way out of grace and back again, the violence matches this tone with unflinching realism. Heads fly off and bodies are mutilated with graphic flair. It’s not gratuitous in the fashion of a B-movie that relishes in the extreme, but there is definitely a Mel Gibson-level of fondness for showing the effects of objects damaging humans for dramatic effect. As such scenes go, it all looks quite realistic.

So, the plentiful swordplay action and production values in Sword in the Moon are impressive and the story fails to match due to annoying flashbacks, flaccid characters and excessive melodrama. What could have smoothed this unevenness over would have been a killer soundtrack. It’s not as bad as most Hong Kong movie scores, but far from killer. It’s mostly orchestral and dips and dives dramatically as one would expect, but it always sounds generic or slightly off as if it were stock music or scored to another movie.

Sword in the Moon is a swordplay film that has a lot going for it, but it could have been a lot better. As is, there is enough quality action to make it worth visiting, but not enough quality overall to make worth revisiting.

REVIEW: Sword in the Moon (2003), 9.0 out of 10 based on 2 ratings

by