Dance of Death | aka Eternal Conflict (1980) Review

“Dance of Death” Theatrical Poster

AKA: Eternal Conflict
Director: Chan Chi Hwa
Cast: Angela Mao, Wang Tai-Lang, Hsu Pu-Liao, Dean Shek Tien, Chia Kai, Paul Chun Pui, Ko Pao, Sun Jung-Chi, Lee Man Tai, Chan Chi Hwa, Chiu Ting
Running Time: 90 min.

By Paul Bramhall

There are certain stars of the old-school kung-fu genre who faded from the spotlight before the fight choreography evolved into the more complex and dynamic style that began to emerge in the late 70’s. Out of all of them, I’d always thought about how Angela Mao’s career would have developed if she’d continued in the industry rather than retire in the early 80’s. After Bruce Lee died Mao became the face of Golden Harvest’s kung-fu output, with her Hapkido training seeing her headline over 10 productions for the studio from the early to mid-1970’s. Her turns in the likes of 1972’s Hapkido and 1973’s When Taekwondo Strikes were showcases for her raw intensity, and straddled the period when the punch and block basher style of choreography was beginning to transition into the more intricate shapes style. I’d always assumed we’d never got to see Mao feature in a true shapes driven kung-fu flick, but thankfully I was wrong.

In 1980 she’d star in Dance of Death, essentially her leading lady swansong before turning up in a handful of minor supporting roles in Taiwanese wuxia and gambling movies leading to her retirement in 1983. By this point Mao had already re-located back to her native Taiwan a couple of years prior, and hadn’t truly headlined a production since 1977’s Broken Oath, which also heralded her last movie for Golden Harvest. For her final turn to headline a production she’s be paired with director Chen Chi-Hwa, who along with Lo Wei is likely most well known as the man who helmed several of Jackie Chan’s pre-fame movies. Working with Chan for the first time on 1977’s The Face Behind the Mask, the pair would go onto collaborate as director and star on Snake and Crane Arts of Shaolin and Half a Loaf of Kung fu the following year, with Chan even agreeing to clock in a cameo in 1979’s The 36 Crazy Fists (which he also choreographed).

The Jackie Chan connection is significant, as he’d similarly come onboard to choreograph Dance of Death, presumably indicating a positive working relationship with Chi-Hwa (in stark comparison to his relationship with Lo Wei). While Chan had worked as a choreographer on productions before, including the likes of Freedom Strikes a Blow and Supermen Against the Orient, this would be the final time for him to choreograph on a production in which he wasn’t the star in front of the camera. While it couldn’t have been appreciated at the time, the fact that Chan’s last choreography gig on a movie that wasn’t his own would also turn out to be Angela Mao’s last starring turn, results in a unique match up that’s similarly the most unique entry out of the productions Mao headlined.

Gone is the revenge seeking force of nature that dominated her Golden Harvest work, all intense stares and Hapkido kicks to the face, and in its place is a mischievous orphan who stumbles across a pair of duelling old masters. Played by Wang Tai-Lang (Phantom Kung Fu, Fighting Ace) and Hsu Pu-Liao (37 Plots of Kung Fu, Fantasy Mission Force), the pair meet every 5 years with the aim of seeing whose kung-fu style is superior, but have so far never been able to get beyond a draw. It’s a plot device clearly riffing on Sammo Hung and Lau Kar-Wing’s relationship from the previous years Odd Couple, with their younger selves here swapped out for Angela Mao, who offers to learn both of their styles and take on a third-party opponent. Whoever’s style is used the most to achieve defeat will decide who the winner is.

There’s not too much more to the plot than that, with the all-important third party coming in the form of Chia Kai (Kung Fu of Seven Steps, Of Cooks and Kung Fu), here playing the type of kick heavy villain role that would usually go to Hwang Jang Lee. Mao’s path to face off against Kai is framed through her meeting a fugitive from the dastardly 100 Bird School whom she befriends, and ultimately teams up with to take them down. However when their plan for revenge turns into a massacre, she narrowly escapes, and has to rely on the pair of old master’s teachings to reach a level where she can kill 2 birds with 1 stone – use the rematch against the school to seek revenge for her fallen friend, while at the same time deciding which of the old master’s style is the superior one.

If that makes a simple plot sound slightly confusing then you wouldn’t be wrong, as in every version of Dance of Death out there it would appear that some scenes are out of sequence. Logically she should meet the fugitive first, attack the school together, narrowly survive and want to seek out revenge, before stumbling across the pair of old masters who can help her achieve her goal (even though she doesn’t reveal the real reason why she’s training). However by opening with her meeting the old masters then having the whole fugitive and school massacre happen basically in the middle of her training, the plot feels a little incohesive. It could of course also be the way Chi-Hwa intended it to be, as Dance of Death is clearly a low budget affair, limited to patches of Taiwan countryside and a couple of sets, so how much sense the plot makes may not necessarily have been a priority.

The other elephant in the room with Dance of Death is whether Mao’s character is supposed to be male or not. All indications would point to yes, as even though it’s common in old-school kung-fu movies for women to be mistaken for men simply by wearing male attire (an approach which makes even the likes of Kara Hui and Polly Shang-Kuan indistinguishable from their male counterparts!), here she’s referred to as a man throughout. While usually such tropes involve at least one reference to the characters femininity, the only hint we get is in a brief scene when Mao visits a brothel and refuses to undress in front of the prostitute she ends up in a room with, but even that’s not 100% clear cut. It’s a bizarre narrative choice, with the only explanation being perhaps Chi-Hwa thought that having Mao copy Yuen Tak’s hairstyle from The Master (released earlier the same year) would be enough to fool everyone!

Despite the incoherency of the plot, gender confused characters, and low budget, this is of course a Jackie Chan choreographed kung-fu comedy, so by default the action should be worth clocking in for. The good news is – it is. Dance of Death is the kind of movie that has to overcome its budgetary constraints by the quality of its fight action, and to that end it’s filled with so many fights there’s a risk of becoming fatigued. Many are comedic, and in the spirit of the likes of The Master Strikes and Master Killers, they’re a chore to get through. Dean Shek (Dirty Kung Fu, Warriors Two) plays one of the characters that defines the ‘Dean Shek’ persona, and he even gets a one on one against Mao in which he utilises a combination of farts and seagull style kung-fu to try and gain victory. I wish I was kidding.

However also in the style of the mentioned movies, the final third of the 90 minute runtime manages to make much of the torturous hour that precedes it feel somewhat forgivable. Once Mao gets serious about her revenge the choreography is cranked up a notch, both in complexity and creativity, with a standout fight against Ko Pao (Crazy Nuts of Kung Fu, Shaolin Kung Fu) pitting the guandao against the spear, and not one but two fights against Sun Jung-Chi (Marco Polo, Iron Fists). As it should be though, the best is saved for last, as Mao, Tai-Lang, and Pu-Liao team up to take on the upside-down horse boxing style of Chia Kai. It’s an epic fight that could never be accused of running short, as the trio try everything to defeat Kai’s seemingly impossible barrage of lethal kicks, ranging from sticking horse hooves on his feet to burning his heels.

The titular style of the title eventually comes into play as Mao is forced to break out the “dance-boxing” style, developed by the 2 masters following the trip to the brothel, in which they witnessed a prostitute subtly fend off a bunch of drunken customers while dancing. The style will be instantly recognizable to anyone who’s seen Jackie Chan break out the feminine style boxing in Drunken Master, and watching Mao fight while being playful and flirtatious is about as far away from her 70’s era output as you can get. While we can only speculate what kind of movies we would have seen from Angela Mao if she’d made it to the Girls with Guns era and beyond, Dance of Death offers a rare glimpse of Golden Harvest’s coldest femme fatale turned into a kung-fu comedy queen for just one movie. Some of it may be grating, but for the final reel alone, like so many old-school kung-fu flicks, the action makes it worth it.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 6/10