Movie Review: The Grandmaster/一代宗師

Breakin’ 3: Shanghai BoogalooJared King was in town recently, and we met up last Thursday for lunch and a movie.

I paid for lunch and he paid for the movie.

I paid for the stinky tofu. That’s not a euphemism, Wei.

The company and the free ticket were the only reasons I watched The Grandmaster/一代宗師.

We watched The Grandmaster/一代宗師 on the IMAX screen at iSquare in TST. It wasn’t an IMAX screening, they just used the screen.

We had to do this since most prints in Hong Kong only have Chinese subtitles and this was one of the few with English subs.

The screen was HUGE, and I would say that it is the one time I wish I was sitting farther away. It was often simply too much, and I couldn’t see clearly.

But there were benefits. I had never noticed that little brown spot at 5 o’clock on Zhang Zhiyi’s right eye before:

 Okay, 4:30. 

In the past, I never really watched Wong Kar Wai movies as much as looked at them.

It was made easier by the fact that often nothing was happening onscreen for long stretches, so letting the eyes wander (even wonder) was a viable option.

You wouldn’t be wrong in saying that my viewing motivation in the past was much more centered on cinematographer Christopher Doyle than director Wong.

But he’s not here anymore.

Cinematographer Philippe Le Sourd creates a very nice-looking film. I never felt that The Grandmaster/一代宗師 dragged, but mostly because I had an awful lot to look at while waiting for the story to develop/make sense/move forward.

Ostensibly (given the removed S in the English title) the film is about the rise of Ip Man, the real-life teacher of Bruce Lee and the man responsible for the global spread of Wing Chun kung fu.

Ip Man is played by Tony Leung, who does a fairly admirable job of portraying a martial arts grandmaster fighting his way to the top of the heap:

 陰莖大小的笑話.

The editing of the martial arts sequences, however, is choppier than a local gang brawl.

It’s to be expected since the vast majority of the participants are not trained martial artists.

What’s unexpected is that it seems like some sort of contractual necessity that fights always occur during inclement weather.

But that doesn’t make the editing any less headache-inducing.

Speaking of headaches, I admire Zhang Ziyi for making a political statement at  The Grandmaster/一代宗師‘s premiere; her dress is obviously supposed to represent the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki:

Ka-Boom.

Now  that’s a disaster. Though I admit, she makes it look better, and I wish she’d been in the public eye more during the Fukushima crisis:

“In the wake of the disaster, there was a run on iodized salt in China…”

While we’re on about Japan and China, a friend who also saw the movie brought up an interesting and relevant question:

If these Chinese martial artists are all super-human (and they are definitely shown to be so), why is it that they do  f@#$-all against the Japanese (other than running away)?

Patriotism fail. 

I found it odd that the romantic arc in the film spent a lot of effort to make us think that Tony Leung was an incredibly devoted, loving, husband to his wife, played by Song Hye-kyo.

小托尼.大拉皮條.

Because his emotional path was basically “I love my wife,

  “Will I ever get to open my mouth in this movie?”

… I love my wife so much,

“Maybe this year…”

… I really love my wife.

“Two f@#$ing lines in this whole movie… My agent’s a dead man.”

… I really, really, really…

Note the optimistic yet inevitably wrong release date.

…My wife?  F@#$ that b*tch! I love this woman!”

There’s no way around it; Ip Man is a dick.

If his feelings can change that quickly, how deep could they ever have been?

And how on earth can you fall in love with someone at the same time you get into a brawl with them, and during your first meeting?

In my case, the brawl was post-nuptial, so I guess I can’t really say.

It simply struck me that Ip Man was a cad.

Oh wait, I’m sure I’m just being a neanderthal who can’t appreciate the subtlety, the angst, the veuve-cliquot of Wong Kar Wai’s narrative, which is so delicate and complex and subtle and has a smoky note of pearwood…

Go f@#$ yourself. He’s an asshole.

And yes, I know Veuve Cliquot is a champagne. You tw@t.

But at least those two people have a comprehensible reason for being there.

There is absolutely no explanation (in the English subtitles, to be fair) who Chang Chen’s character is. He’s some guy with a razor who starts a Shanghai-style barber shop in Hong Kong.

剃須和理髮…兩個比特.

Maybe he’s now one of the 90-year-olds who cuts my hair these days.

From what clues I’m given, it’s as plausible as any other explanation. And I’m glad I tip well.

We don’t ever find out who he is or why he’s there.

That stuff, if it exists at all, is on the cutting room floor, or being saved for the rumored 4-hour director’s cut.

Which will probably take another decade to see the light of day. Splendid.

But he still makes out better than Ip Man’s son, who simply disappears from the film without any explanation.

  “Daddy has new best friends. But Mommy is still dead. So long.”

Among the inevitable accolades that  The Grandmaster/一代宗師 will garner, they should include Most Egregious Waste of a Cameo Award, for having Elvis Tsui Kam Kong in the film for 10 seconds.

Elvis Tsui is… THE GLANDMASTER.

Jared and I simultaneously called out his name when we saw him, which startled the guy sitting next to us.

Causing him perhaps to mistype whatever he was writing on his phone. But that was a small mistake in two hours of writing.

Apparently Elvis did some work behind the scenes.

Those are (allegedly) his feet.

I’m not a fan of Wong Kar Wai.

Or his fans.

Obviously this film has been the recipient of gushing, hyperbolic accolades, using really  precious adjectives.

 躊躇滿志的娘們 .

I can see why; Wong Kar Wai’s films pander to film-lovers, especially Western(-ized?) ones, what with his  deliberate pacing (as opposed to  glacial) , his  exquisitely thematic approach to narrative (as opposed to  utterly negligent) and his  sumptuous,  breathtaking cinematography (as opposed to  something someone else  had years to get right).

Or  just maybe his films are so vague and empty of any discernible meaning that it allows his fans to inscribe their own meaning onto his films, providing them with a warm feeling of connectedness, knowledge and, naturally, superiority.

Nothing soothes like solipsism.

I think Wong Kar Wai always wears sunglasses so people won’t notice that the emperor is naked.

But he is.

Jesus, no wonder…

Hmmmm. Maybe Elvis Tsui was hired to play Wong Kar Wai and be naked.

But that scene got cut.