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http://www.kungfucinema.com/reviews/pekingoperablues.htm
Premise: China, 1913. Two years after the end of the Ching Dynasty, three women join a revolutionary cause to prevent the country from being exploited by its corrupt military and foreign powers.
Review: As Tsui Hark’s dazzling “first” masterpiece nears its twentieth anniversary it remains a perfect entry point into the world of Hong Kong action cinema. Like other Tsui Hark movies, Peking Opera Blues drops the audience into the action and assumes knowledge as it whisks through an exhilarating story of political intrigue, broad comedy, romance and wirework. And like Tsui Hark films before and after, Peking Opera Blues is painted in bold broad strokes; so Western viewers can follow the traditional good versus evil scenario.
The year is 1913 (the year China began film production) and China is experiencing an uneasy peace two years after the First Democratic Revolution. But unworthy generals controlling the country are auctioning it to foreign bidders. These turbulent events throw together three very different women. Tsao Wan (Brigitte Lin) is the daughter of the current ruling General (Kenneth Tsang), and is plotting with the revolutionary Ling Pak-Hoi (Mark Cheng) to steal a secret contract from her father that allows foreign powers the rights to the country. Sheung Hung (Cherie Chung) is a street-smart hustler, helping Tsao with the promise of great riches, and Pat Nell (Sally Yeh) is the daughter of the owner of the local opera house, who dreams of treading the boards but is restrained by chauvinistic convention that disallows women to act on stage. While General Tsao clandestinely barters with the West, ruthless “Ticketing Officers,” a vicious police force with looks and manner more akin to Triads, enforce local law and pose the greatest threat to the revolution.
Exquisitely mounted and finely crafted, Peking Opera Blues is a classic example of Hong Kong pulp cinema. Director Tsui allows his visual imagination full flight, while To Kwok-wai’s tightly plotted script anchors the director’s cinematic bravura. Minor subplots such as Sheung’s elusive bag of riches are neatly handled in a movie where nothing goes to waste, and character receives as much attention as jaw-dropping action.
Peking Opera Blues demonstrates Tsui’s ongoing interest in strong female characters (itself a trait of Chinese Opera), evident since the character of Green Shadow stole The Butterfly Murders, and still apparent in his current work. Here Tsao Wan’s sartorial taste for military and casual gentleman’s wear matches her revolutionary take-charge demeanor, while Pat Nell quietly rallies against the injustice of a male-dominated theater and Sheng transforms from opportunist to activist. Whereas Ling Pak-Hoi willingly yet unwisely uses his fists to fight, the heroic trio employ their wits to evade perilous situations. In one darkly comic scene Tsao “puppets” a dead General to avoid a fatal gunfight, and Pat Nell orchestrates the climactic “getaway” opera performance.
But, Ling’s quick-fisted responses to danger allow Tsui Hark and legendary action director Ching Sui-Ting to unleash a breathtaking ballet of wirework thrills, which have drawn favorable comparisons with Spielberg’s Indiana Jones movies. Of course, those comparisons are apt, as Peking Opera Blues burns with inventive mayhem, artfully making political intrigue a personal battle for justice, and offering the finest team of adventurers since Han and Chewie joined up with Luke. A teahouse shoot-out (a nod to the obligatory teahouse brawl?) and a climactic chase across the rooftops are but two delights for action aficionados. Tsui also darkens the mood with Tsao Wan’s gun-totting rampage against her father’s murderers, and her subsequent torture. That these scenes sit comfortably alongside perfectly timed physical humor is a testament to the director’s mastery of tone and character.
Standout performances abound, particularly from the three main actresses. Brigitte Lin Ching-hsai conveys a wealth of emotion through almost imperceptible facial expressions, and continues the cross-dressing androgyny theme that featured in Dream of the Red Chamber (1978) and would reach an apotheosis with her performances as Asia the Invincible in the Swordsman series. Cherie Chung wears her avarice and burgeoning sense of responsibility on her sleeve, and those who regard Sally Yeh merely as the simpering foil from The Killer will be amazed at the comic and dramatic range revealed here.
Against such girl power, the men wisely retreat into the background, but Mark Cheng and Kenneth Tsang (unrecognizable beneath a white fright wig and beard) give vivid life to their roles, as does Shaw Brothers regular Guk Fung, playing Liu, the nefarious head of the Ticketing Officers.
Peking Opera Blues is a fine introduction to the spectacle of traditional Chinese Opera, referencing the opera June Snow (a tale of a woman wrongly sacrificed by unthinking men) in a sequence where the three women are united beneath an unseasonable flurry of snow. Pat Nell and Sheng perform a dual onstage performance as Mu Guiying, a famous female warrior, while Tsao Wan’s taste for men’s fashion echoes Hua Mulan, whose masculine disguise was required to battle her enemies. The original title of the movie, Do Ma Daan, translates as the fitting (but less memorable) "Women Warriors." With a nod to Western music, a dramatic music cue is lifted from Peter Gabriel’s score for Birdy, cues for which also featured in the Tsui Hark-produced A Better Tomorrow I and II a year later.
Finally, Peking Opera Blues is a tribute to the indomitable spirit of community. Tsui (with his usual attention to background as well as foreground detail) depicts the low-class teahouse as a vibrant, thrilling place while the General’s palace is foreboding and muted. Lui expires beneath the banner for the opera house he tried to close down, alluding to Chinese Opera’s survival through centuries of regime changes, buckling only under the oppressive rule of Chairman Mao’s Communist Party. Ironically, after Mao’s Gang of Four were finally banished Chinese Opera found itself unfashionable, forcing opera players to abandon their first career for a move to the world of movies.
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