Tiger Killer (1982)

Tiger Killer is Li Han-hsiang’s triumphant retelling of the tragic tale of Lotus Pan (Wong Ping), a seductress doomed to a short life of sorrow and condemnation for her illicit affairs. The title refers to Wu Song (Ti Lung), the heroic younger brother to a homely dwarf (Ku Feng), whom Pan is forced to marry as punishment for having been caught sleeping with her dirty old master. The story is told from Song’s perspective, much as Shaw Brothers’ 1964 musical The Amorous Lotus Pan is. The earlier version is scripted by future kung fu movie master Chang Cheh.

After several years learning kung fu at Shaolin Temple, Song reunites with his brother Ta-lang, a kindly bun vendor. When Song kills a local thug while coming to the defense of a young lady, Ta-lang convinces him to flee and accepts responsibly for the murder himself. While on the road, Song slays a man-eating tiger with his kung fu skills and returns home a hero. He discovers that Ta-lang, having been released from a six-month prison term, is now married to Pan. Domestic unrest grows as Pan, unhappy with her ugly husband and sexually frustrated, makes advances on Song, who has recently been hired as a junior constable for his heroic deed. Song, however, remains fiercely loyal and protective of his brother and openly rebukes her.

Meanwhile, a playboy constable named Ximen Qing (Lau Wing) arranges for Song to be sent away on official business so that he can have his way with Pan. Tragically, Song returns to discover that his brother is dead and all signs point to the cover up of a murder that involves a conniving neighbor known for arranging adulterous meetings. Song begins a determined investigation that leads to a violent confrontation with Pan and Qing.

This is a brilliant martial arts drama. Its light on action, but the characterizations, acting and direction are all superb. Li Han-hsiang was one of Shaw Brothers most gifted and commercially successful filmmakers. His ability to draw forth strong performances from his cast and fully utilize the studios’ substantial resources for the best results are very apparent here.

Leading actress Wong Ping and character actor Ku Feng both won Golden Horse awards for their performance in this film and it’s well deserved. Wong dropped her good girl persona to play one of China’s most notorious seductresses. She does so with a fantastic portrayal that truly is erotic and yet multilayered. By Hong Kong standards, her performance is quite daring and powerful. It should be an eye opener for viewers accustomed to seeing Chinese women in historical films as either chaste heroines or trite, fawning prostitutes.

Ku Feng is about as dependable an actor as Hong Kong ever produced and it is to his credit that he is able to keep his characterization of an unattractive little person from becoming a caricature. I’m always amazed at the ability of Hong Kong actors like Ku to be able to transform themselves onscreen into just about anything with little more than the application of a make up or hairpieces. Using his Peking opera skills, Ku physically turns himself into a person half his stature by simply stooping low and wearing robes to cover his legs. To complete the look he wears oversized false teeth, a wig with a receding hairline and pockmark facial make up. Amazingly, it works as Ku focuses on displaying the character’s humanity and charm.

Size plays a curiously strong and conflicting role in this movie. While Ta-ling’s arrested height is considered unattractive, Pan’s grossly shrunken feet from having been bound are seen as her most appealing assets by her male admirers to the point that they covet her miniature shoes the way others might covet undergarments. It was once common practice in China for women above the station of a peasant to bind their feet from childhood. The smaller the feet, the more attractive the woman. But Hong Kong period movies rarely show this phenomenon, especially when women are often heroines and bound feet would make martial arts execution all but impossible.

I challenge anyone to point out a director who could shoot Shaw Brothers’ famous sets with greater skill than Li Han-hsiang. The attention to detail and vibrancy he produces are amazing. Of course, by this point Li was able to practically name his own budgets after scripting and helming a string of box office successes that began with The Warlord (1972). Much like former SB director King Hu, Li applies an artist’s sensibility to his movies. In Tiger Killer, the environment and costumes are just as important as the characters. Richly decorated city streets and buildings bustle with life. The camera pans and weaves through this lush pageantry with precision, perfectly capturing every elaborate detail.

The painted backdrops are excellent, particularly the Shaolin set. At their very best, and Tiger Killer is an example, SB could give recreated mainland locations a dramatic and inviting look that the real thing never possessed. This is proven when we look at the real northern Shaolin Temple today, which looks more humble in the mainland produced Shaolin Temple. There is also a certain theatrical aspect in the film that belies Li’s roots in Hong Kong’s once popular musicals. This is notably displayed in Song’s second homecoming as the entire city, eager or dreading his reaction to his brother’s death, clamor about as if nothing else matters.

As befitting a production of this scale and quality, the studio goes all out on the soundtrack. Instead of recycled stock music, the score to Tiger Killer is robust, fully orchestrated and adds a great deal to the energy Li captures visually.

It’s not often you’ll find a kung fu battle with a tiger, but that’s what Tiger Killer offers when Ti Lung hunts down the dreaded beast. Its shot much the way Sonny Chiba’s karate brawl with a bull was in Karate Bullfighter. A mixture of scenes are sliced together, some showing Ti at closer range fending off a stuffed animal and others from a wider perspective showing a stunt double wrestling a trained tiger. No, it isn’t believable but it’s good enough considering it’s pulled off without the advantages of CGI or animatronics.

Li wasn’t a kung fu movie director and he doesn’t pretend to be here. But with experienced action directors Tang Chia and Wong Pau-gei on board, the few fight scenes we get are not a disappointment. There’s really only one fight to speak of and that’s Ti’s climatic match with Lau Wing. Thanks to Li’s expert writing and direction, the buildup has created a thick layer of tension that shatters when Ti storms the Lion Inn in search of Lau. Li uses the location symbolically to represent the close bond between Song and Ta-lang. It’s the place where they celebrate and the place where Song gets his final revenge for the crimes committed against his brother.

The fight is impassioned and brutal with breakaway furniture crashing over heads and the intricate forms often emphasized elsewhere giving way to raw emotions. In this way Li is presenting the martial arts sequence much the way Zhang Yimou did at the end of House of Flying Daggers. It’s a different approach from that of dedicated martial arts movie directors like Lau Kar-leung and Sammo Hung, but just as valid and engaging. Ti Lung and Lau Wing both perform well in this scene.

Tiger Killer is a unique production from Shaw Brothers that displays the dramatic talents of leading kung fu movie stars Ti Lung and Ku Feng. Li Han-hsiang rarely delved into the martial arts genre and in doing so this time he effectively marries a complex and highly engaging period drama with the kind of visceral action genre fans demand. However, this may not be in great enough quantity for some. This movie is highly recommended on its own, but also as the perfect entry into Shaw Brothers’ excellent non-martial arts period movies, of which many such as The Empress Dowager (1975) featuring David Chiang come from the same director.