REVIEW: ‘The White Dragon’ (2004)

Wilson Yip (Bio Zombie, SPL) has been developing into one of Hong Kong’s more eclectic and talented directors in a time when the local industry is in desperate need of any kind of talent to lift it out of frivolous mediocrity. The White Dragon marks his first entry into the wuxia genre and displays his skills at salvaging a bad idea. It’s a loose remake of a 1968 wuxia pian of the same name starring Fung Bo-bo. What sets this new version apart is the inclusion of complete nonsense gags and cutting-edge wirework action into an otherwise bittersweet love story set in the jiang hu (martial world).

The White Dragon is a movie in conflict with itself. On the one hand, it wants to be a Stephen Chow type comedy and on the other, a serious swordplay drama. Seemingly adapting to the unfortunate demand for juvenile humor in Hong Kong, Yip blends the two into something short of a successful merger, yet it’s not altogether displeasing.

The modern-day, teen urbanite lifestyle is imbedded into the mythical jiang hu as a spoiled, young swordswoman named Black Phoenix (Cecilia Cheung) attends a sword school with her friends during the Ming Dynasty, while dreaming of marrying the handsome second prince Tian Yang (Andy On). Black Phoenix’s life is complicated after a notorious blind assassin named Chicken Feathers (Francis Ng) defeats her master, who then transfers all of her martial power to Black Phoenix. Almost immediately, she becomes plagued with acne that will only go away if she performs good deeds. She dons a veil and becomes the White Dragon, a chivalrous bandit who steals from the rich and gives to the poor. When she discovers that Chicken Feathers may be planning to kill Second Prince, White Dragon confronts him, but is defeated and left with a broken leg. Chicken Feathers takes her back to his home and nurses her back to health. In this time, the two grow fond of each other, but Chicken Feathers’ desperate desire to see her face, leads White Dragon to accidentally ruin his martial arts ability. White Dragon flees in dismay and returns home to discover that the Prince wants to marry her. Heartbroken, bereft of martial skill and eventually captured and marked for execution by Tian Yang’s corrupt brother, Chicken Feathers sinks into despair. Just as an unhappy ending appears certain, White Dragon appears.

From the start, The White Dragon has quite a lot going for it. The combination of Yip’s direction, Cheung Man-poi’s cinematography, Bruce Yu’s art direction, and crisp lighting creates a gorgeous visual presentation that’s on par with mainland Chinese wuxia entries such as Hero. All that’s missing are the hundreds of extras and meticulous details that a larger budget allows. The film’s lush visuals go a long way in making the most annoying aspects of the film palatable.

The swordplay and wire choreography are excellent. The film’s heroes seem completely and naturally free from gravitational restrictions as they spin in the air, swoop down sword first or bound over rooftops. Action director Ma Yuk-sing cut his teeth working alongside wirework master Ching Siu-tung during the early-’90s boom, so it’s no wonder that this wuxia martial arts looks so good. Now, while the high-flying action is fine, the sparring is far less impressive. There’s nothing in the way of the intense weapons combat Yuen Wo-ping crafted in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. But that’s not surprising as none of the cast members are martial arts actors.

The casting has its pluses and minuses. Cecilia Cheung is a screen beauty with personality and acting chops to boot, but her unrefined, street-wise manner is somewhat out of place in the setting of a wuxia pian. Her rough Cantonese delivery, that worked like a charm in Stephen Chow’s King of Comedy, is grating this time around. Her pairing with Francis Ng, however, turns out to be unexpectedly good. Ng consistently and rather blatantly mimics Shintaro Katsu’s Zatoichi persona, but it works, especially in portraying a humble sword master with an appreciation for the subtleties of life. A good portion of the film is devoted to the pair’s bonding sessions and they carry the scenes well together. They’re certainly a better match than Cheung and Andy On (Black Mask 2) as her would-be suitor. Andy On has proven himself to be nothing but B-grade acting material and does nothing to change that image this time around with yet another wooden performance. None of the other actors leave much of an impression, or have an opportunity to do so.

Two things that hinder the enjoyment of this movie include some embarrassingly bad jokes and the tendency to slip into awkward melodrama. Both of these aspects may be more of a cultural roadblock than anything else, although it’s hard to tell. The magical exchange of martial ability being visualized as a broadband Windows file transfer was funny enough, but Cecilia Cheung doing a one-man band act that climaxes with her smashing a pipa like a Fender Telecaster-thrashing Pete Townsend is just painful to watch. Ming-era rollerblading, tennis and McDonald’s takeout might have been funny on paper, but in execution it smacks of desperation to reach a young and uneducated audience wallowing in that evil of all evils known as Western capitalist decadence. But seriously, I watch swordplay movies in part to escape the endless soft drink and fast food shilling in Hollywood movies. As for the melodrama, mostly centering on the romance between Ng and Cheung, it’s nothing new. It’s the only interpretation of relationships that misguided middle schoolers know, or so writers in Hollywood and Hong Kong believe. Cheung cries herself to sleep over her conflicted heart, a teary-eyed Ng offers his favorite McDonald’s toy to Cheung and Andy On almost displays a glimmer of emotion, almost.

The reoccurring thought I kept having while watching The White Dragon, was how could such great imagery and wirework be wasted on such a mediocre movie? I can’t wrap my mind around it. Hong Kong is still capable of crafting beautiful-looking wuxia pian with ever-more-sophisticated stunt work. But the plots and characters, only the most important elements of any movie, continue to reek of shallow caricatures that neither expand on the heroic traditions of wuxia storytelling or move into new and challenging directions. I’ll credit Wilson Yip and his crew for making the most of this movie in spite of its flaws. They somehow make it more enjoyable than it rightly should be.