Kung Fu Master (2010) Review

“Kung Fu Master” DVD Cover

Director: Dou Xiao
Cast: Yuen Biao, Jimmy Lin, Leung Kar Yan, Zhao Qiu Sheng, Chunhua Ji, Yang Lu, Yuan Wu
Running Time: 95 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Back in the mid-2000’s a US based distributor of Asian cinema called Tai Seng came upon an ingenious way to take advantage of the kung fu cinema resurgence. Applying a Godfrey Ho-esque approach, Tai Seng would take Chinese kung fu TV series starring familiar names, often over 40 episodes in length, and compress them into 2 – 3 hour ‘movies’. So it is we got the likes of Wu Jing in The Tai Chi Master, and Fan Siu Wong in Iron Fist. These patchwork productions always had a familiar feel – cheap looking photography, the vaguest outline of a story, practically zero characterisation, and a ridiculous amount of fight scenes. It could well be argued that it would have been easier to simply create a compilation of fight scenes from the series in question, however you have to admire the attempt to still present a plot over a few minutes that’s been distilled from literally hours of footage.

In 2010 Lionsgate decided to get in on the action as well. Taking the 2009 series A Legend of Shaolin Kung Fu II: Thirteen Cudgel Monks consisting of 46 episodes, after what I can only imagine was months in the editing room, a year later Kung Fu Master was released – which clocks in at just 95 minutes. Never mind about the first A Legend of Shaolin Kung Fu series, I’ll simply mention that the plot of the 2^nd series involves 13 monks who were chosen to rescue Li Shimin, a real historical figure who at the time was the leader of the Tang Army, and would go onto be the first Emperor of the Tang Dynasty. Played by Jimmy Lin (Butterfly and Sword, Flying Dagger), he’s actually hardly worth a mention, as in its new guise of Kung Fu Master Lin is barely onscreen, and instead the plot has been shuffled around to make Yuen Biao’s (The Hunted Hunter, Kickboxer) monk the main character.

In Kung Fu Master the rejigged plot concentrates on Biao’s martial arts master monk who gets summoned from Shaolin Temple, and is ordered to be the new drillmaster for a villainous commander, played by Leung Kar Yan (Super Powerful Man, Final Run). Wanting to get to the bottom of Kar Yan’s plans, Biao agrees to go and find out what the deal is for himself, with a dim-witted pupil tagging along for comedic relief played by Zhao Qiu Sheng (Fearless Kung Fu King, Master of the Drunken Fist: Beggar So). What Kar Yan really wants is to destroy Shaolin Temple, so naturally lots of fighting ensures. Lots.

From a practical perspective at least , why A Legend of Shaolin Kung Fu II: Thirteen Cudgel Monks was targeted to be condensed into a new Yuen Biao starring movie is clear. Biao’s monk never changes out of his monk’s robes, so whether we’re watching a scene from the 1^st episode or 46^th episode doesn’t matter, the scenes could be placed next to each other (and indeed several are) and as an audience we’d never know. The bigger question of what the point was of trying to make it look like there was a new Yuen Biao movie on the block in 2010 is a more difficult one to answer. 1990 I’d get it, even in 2000 it would be understandable (well, ok, that was the same year Millennium Dragon was released, so maybe enthusiasm wouldn’t have been all that high), but in 2010 Biao was a far cry from his heyday.

For aficionados of kung fu cinema, it does of course provide a reunion of Biao and Kar Yan sharing the screen together, 30 years since their turn in 1979’s Knockabout. Similarly, the promise of minimal plot and pretty much non-stop fight action will likely appeal to the same audience, however neither of these factors necessarily mean that Kung Fu Master is a guaranteed good time. Out of the Three Dragons (Biao, Jackie Chan, and Sammo Hung), it was arguably Biao who seemed most content to spend less time in the limelight once he was past his physical peak. At the time of its release Sammo was having a career resurgence thanks to his villainous turn in 2005’s Sha Po Lang, while Jackie was dividing his time between Hollywood and increasing his appeal in Mainland China. Biao on the other hand certainly didn’t share the same level of success in the 00’s, and it’s no surprise that he’d turned to TV in the latter half of the decade. 

Using the framing device of Biao having to undergo a series of tests to prove his worthiness, the first half hour practically consists of him wondering from one fight scene to the next and little else. It’s a safe bet to assume the fight scenes were much more spread out in the series, not least because the seeming lack of exhaustion or even surprise from Biao whenever another opponent springs up out of nowhere. Kicking off with a rather goofy scene involving him battling a flying coffin with a mind of its own, things don’t get any easier for his travelling monk. He soon wonders into a gang of metal claw adorned assassins, a prostitute with killer sleeves, a deadly lute player and his spear wielding son, a group of bladed umbrella brandishing killers, and an assortment of cave dwelling swordsman just for good measure.

While the prospect of Biao being front and centre amidst all of these confrontations may have been kung fu cinematic bliss 20 years earlier, here the spark is just no longer there. The TV budget resorts to a lot of close-up shots, and the digital photography suffers from blurring whenever there’s too much activity onscreen at once, but even these behind the camera issues can’t distract from the fact that Biao is significantly doubled in the fight scenes. While doubling has been a part of Hong Kong action cinema for as long as it’s been around, there’s something painful about seeing the man who was the double for a countless number of kung fu stars in the genres golden era now have to be doubled himself. 

Choreographed by fellow Yuen Clan member Yuen Bun (who’d directed Biao before in 1995’s Tough Beauty and the Sloppy Slop) and Li Cai (who was part of the action team on Zhang Yi-Mou’s Wuxia Trilogy), it doesn’t seem fair to compare their work here to those on feature length productions. While some aspects entertain – one scene has Biao required to cross a courtyard by traversing a makeshift obstacle course made of benches stacked on top of each other – most of these scenes are simply too average (not to mention lacking any kind of context) in their execution to maintain interest, especially when they’re one after the other. While the characters Biao comes across are an eclectic mix, the fact that the choreography is so unremarkable is what fails to make Kung Fu Master work as a standalone kung fu flick, and I daresay I’d happily have sacrificed some of the fight scenes for some that develop the characters and plot more.

Things do get a little more a little more exciting in the finale, as Biao and six other monks convene in Kar Yan’s elaborate lair and are forced to take on a literal army of attackers. There are a few brief overhead shots in this sequence which giveaway the fact that the monks are actually protecting Jimmy Lin, who’s seen in the centre of them, however if you didn’t know you were watching a rejigged TV series it’s possible you wouldn’t notice. The final fight pits a staff wielding Biao against a guandao brandishing Leung Kar Yan, however it fails in being able to elevate itself above any of the other action that’s been on display, instead feeling like just another fight scene that’s been thrown into the mix.

As a director Dou Xiao seems to exclusively work in the TV arena, and Lionsgate have happily bastardised the other series he’s worked on into patchwork movies as well – Empire of Assassins, Warrior Assassin, and Shaolin Warrior are all condensed TV series with new titles, offering up more of the same. While the thought of Yuen Biao playing a wise old martial arts master monk is an appealing one, I want the role to be one where he’s legitimately front and centre, and not thrust into a starring role by default of only using his scenes from a lengthy TV series. While his most ardent fans may get some enjoyment from Kung Fu Master, for everyone else, it’s best to give Prodigal Son another spin for the 100^th time.

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 4/10