Flying Swords Of Dragon Gate
Tsui Hark
The story: At the end of New Dragon Gate Inn (1992), which Hong Kong’s Tsui Hark produced and co-wrote, the infamous desert outpost of lawlessness was razed to the ground. Three years later, the new inn in its place is once again bustling as an array of characters with different motives and motivations gather there: A concubine (Mavis Fan) on the run from the powerful eunuch Yu (Chen Kun) is being protected by a masked woman (Zhou Xun), righteous hero Zhao (Jet Li) wants to take down the eunuch, and treasure hunters are drawn there as a massive storm is about to reveal a buried palace.

Do not buy into the hype that this is the first 3-D martial arts movie.
The technology is far from being the highlight of the film. Some of the showcase 3-D scenes look rather fake and the epic showdown between Jet Li’s Zhao and Chen’s eunuch Yu could have done with a little less CGI and more oomph.
Not that it lacks visual flair, though. Indeed, one gets swirling capes, flying swords and twirling ropes in an early fight scene between Jet Li and Gordon Liu, the action star of the 1970s and 1980s who cameos as another powerful eunuch.
More importantly, Flying Swords is an absorbing work. Clearly, there is a lot going on here. Part of the fun is working out exactly what is going on since people are not quite who they say they are and almost everyone is hiding something.
Complicating things is the fact that the eunuch Yu and the opportunistic treasure-hunter Wu are dead ringers for each other. They are both played by China actor Chen Kun, recently seen in Jiang Wen’s excellent Let The Bullets Fly (2010). He does a great job playing the silkily villainous Yu as well as the quick-thinking Wu. Of course, Tsui sets it up so that Wu ends up impersonating Yu. To add to the subterfuge, both camps realise that the two look alike and Yu comes up with a passcode to prove that he is the real McCoy. Sit back, pay attention and enjoy how it all plays out.
While those who have watched Tsui’s earlier work in films such as Peking Opera Blues (1986) and Shanghai Blues (1984) would be familiar with these devices of mistaken identities and use of code words, they still feel fresh and funny when executed with verve.
Aside from Chen’s performances, Tsui’s famed ability to do surprising work with actors is also evident here. Taiwan’s Guey Lun-mei is often cast as the elegantly genteel city girl in films such as Taipei Exchanges (2010). Here, she is clearly having a ball of a time, swaggering and spitting as a tattooed tribal princess.
Although the interplay of some of the relationships could have been drawn out a little more, there is more than enough here to entrance viewers. If last year’s Detective Dee And The Mystery Of The Phantom Flame suggested that Tsui was back on form, Flying Swords seals the deal.
(ST)