Connie Chan Po-chu: Supreme Sword (1969)

Supreme Sword (1969)
Director: Ling Yun
Cast: Tso Tat-wah, Connie Chan, Sek Kin
Publisher: Pearl City; Format: VCD, DVD (Region 0, PAL)
English subtitles: Yes
Full credits and synposis from the HKFA online catalog

In October 1965 the Shaw Brothers announced the dawning of a new action era in Hong Kong cinema: the “Colour Wuxia Century.” This was their latest offensive in the battle for box office supremacy, and it squarely targeted popular Cantonese serials like Buddha’s Palm (1964) and The Six-Fingered Lord of the Lute (1965). Shaw’s first strike, Temple of the Red Lotus (1965), proved ineffective against the box office drawing power of Connie Chan, who was quickly becoming the top martial-arts star. Next year the studio struck hard with Come Drink with Me, unveiling its secret weapon against Chan: newcomer Cheng Pei-pei (who, by the end of the decade, would be dubbed the “Queen of Wuxia Films”). But it was the summer of ’67—in the heat of the anti-colonial strikes, demonstrations, and riots which rocked Hong Kong—when Shaws dealt the deadly blow of the One-Armed Swordsman, the blockbuster which earned Chang Cheh the title of “Million Dollar Director.” With this film and those that followed, Chang tapped into the spirit of the times with his heady mix of blood and guts; brooding, rebellious anti-heroes; and new breed of masculine—and bare-chested—male stars (Wang Yu, Chiang Da-wei, and Ti Lung).

At one time, not too long before Chang and his boys staged this coup, it was Tso Tat-wah who epitomized the martial hero in Hong Kong cinema. During the 50s he played Cantonese folk legend Fong Sai-yuk and Leung Foon, the head disciple of Wong Fei-hung; during the 60s he played Lung Kim-fei, thrilling a whole generation of kids and adults with his “Buddha’s Palm” technique. Tso was not going to give up his title to a bunch of young punks. He enlisted the help of his goddaughter Connie Chan; long-time collaborator Ling Yun (who directed his first film, The Powerful-Leg Hero, with Tso back in ’52); and Lau Kar-leung and Tong Gai (who were revolutionizing action choreography, first in the Cantonese film industry and then at Shaw Brothers as well). The result was Supreme Sword, a figurative and literal attempt on many levels to regain the title of “Number One.”

Like so many other films before it, Supreme Sword starts off with a mission of vengeance. Connie plays Wang Tsui Ying, a young woman who must avenge the tragic death of her father and mother. She quickly tracks down each person who played a hand in the incident that lead to her parents’ deaths, and then she brutally kills him after getting the name of the next conspirator. Finally, there is only one left: a villain by the name of Gold Fist. During her search, she comes across a scruffy vagabond (played by Tso Tat-wah) and wonders if he might be the one. However, one look at his amiable grin is enough to persuade the audience at least that he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. His unassuming demeanor and quiet confidence earn Tsui Ying’s respect and piques her interest.

As we follow the vagabond into town, it becomes clear that he, not Tsui Ying, is the real protagonist of the film. The subsequent encounter in an inn with a trio of local toughs reveals more about this mysterious wanderer: a deeply chivalrous nature, highly developed chi powers, and a strong commitment to nonviolence. Clearly, this is not your average martial-arts hero. When Tsui Ying happens upon the inn and witnesses the vagabond being forced to eat rice off the floor, she immediately comes to his defense, summarily piling the ruffians one by one in a heap out on the street. Afterwards she offers the vagabond some money, but he hands it over to the innkeeper to compensate for the damage incurred by the fight. Taken aback by his non-attachment, she suspects that this fellow is much more than he seems. Tsui Ying follows him to his next encounter, where he ends up reluctantly becoming the guardian of an obnoxious young swordsman searching for his father—a man who turns out to be none other than... Gold Fist!

The movie is thereby restaged as a morality play about filial duty clashing with brotherly loyalty amidst the ever-turning cycle of vengeance. Supreme Sword is an ambitious film that could have hit the bull’s eye, but in the end it clings to the old-fashioned conventions of the Cantonese martial-arts cinema that Tso Tat-wah and Ling Yun had spent most of their careers forging and reinforcing. True enough, Supreme Sword incorporates the blood and brutality of Chang Cheh’s new-school films, but it lacks that other component which made Chang’s movies so successful: the intense, brooding emotions of his heroes. In this regard, it is Connie’s performance that comes up short. For someone who has just lost their parents, Tsui Ying seems remarkably unaffected throughout the course of the film. And this proves to be a huge detriment as the story plays out. Without a doubt, Tsui Ying is the most brutal character in the film, much more so than the alleged bad guys, the Four Tigers, who are so mild when it comes to villainy that they might as well have been dubbed the Four Paper Tigers. As result, Tsui Ying appears quite unreasonable in her quest for vengeance and—dare I say—slightly unsympathetic. If only we could see her pain, then the moral conflict at the heart of Supreme Sword could be felt more sharply. Connie was certainly capable of the emotions required (see Paragon of Sword and Knife for ample proof), but for whatever reason she was not called upon to display them. One other additional flaw also dilutes the moral dilemma of Supreme Sword, and that is the “deus ex machina” ending which deprives Tsui Ying of the opportunity to consciously halt the cycle of violence.

Perhaps that would have shifted the focus too much on Connie’s character, and Supreme Sword is unquestionably Tso’s show. But that’s okay. While it’s not a great film, it is a good film. And it’s a rare chance to see one of Connie’s martial-arts films with English subtitles—and uncropped with unfaded colors to boot! As for Tso, although he remains a little old-fashioned (and can’t resist making a speech at the end of the film), he is a very likable hero, upright yet humble, with a wry sense of humor (best shown in the scene when the villains “serve” him a chicken skewered on a sword and he catches the tip of the blade with his teeth, bites it off, and spits it back at them!). Although the late 60s may have rendered Tso Tat-wah temporarily irrelevant, he has endured in the heart of the public longer than the angst-ridden Wang Yu. Angry young heroes may burn twice as bright, but their fire lasts half as long. Muscles shrink with age and turn to fat, but true righteousness never dies. Thanks Uncle Wah!

Reviewed by Dave Wells