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Review
by Kozo: |
The classic wuxia novel Baifa Monü Zhuan receives another in a long line of screen adaptations with The White Haired Witch of Lunar Kingdom – though if you hail from the West, you’re probably most familiar with the 1993 version The Bride with White Hair. Directed by Ronny Yu, that 21 year-old film starred Brigitte Lin and Leslie Cheung as lovers torn apart by the treacherous machinations inherent in the jiang hu. Yu’s version reduced the convoluted plotting and pushed the tragic romance for a passionate but unfaithful adaptation. While still a departure, The White Haired Witch of Lunar Kingdom restores the intrigue and historical setting of Liang Yusheng’s original novel, but can’t combine those elements with its exceptional stars – Fan Bingbing and Huang Xiaoming – to deliver something special. While passably diverting, the film may only entertain undemanding audiences, and certainly not anyone who turns up because Tsui Hark is credited as the film’s “Artistic Consultant” (really, he is). Fan Bing-Bing’s wig does not disappoint, however.
Also not disappointing is Huang Xiaoming – at least, not if you’re a particular kind of fan. The suave actor stars as Zhuo Yihang, a member of the Wudang martial arts sect who gets embroiled in messy jiang hu politics. He becomes enamored of the mysterious Jade Rakshasha a.k.a. Lian Nishang (Fan Bingbing), who lives in the strategically-located Fort Luna. When she isn’t looking ravishingly beautiful, Nishang opposes corrupt soldiers on behalf of the downtrodden and disenfranchised. She’s cool to Yihang’s advances, which are telegraphed with come-hither looks and a demeanor that screams “overbearing bro,” but begins to like him when he treats Fort Luna’s refugees for disease. Alas, the Wei government comes calling: The Wanli Emperor Zhu Yijun just died, and the last medication he received was some mysterious red pills courtesy of Zhuo Yihang. However, the one behind these events is really royal eunuch Wei Zhongtian (Ni Dahong). Will the dastardly eunuch usurp the throne and, uh, cockblock Yihang?
Hard to say, because Zhongtian is only one cog in this over-plotted story. Besides Nishang also being framed for murder (seriously, it happens to both her and Yihang), the Jin Clan are threatening to invade the Wei Kingdom. They’d like to gain Fort Luna as a foothold, while Wei general Jin Duyi (Vincent Zhao) also wants in on Fort Luna. Hiding undercover in Fort Luna is Captain Murong Chong (Wang Xuebing), a Wei soldier trying to suss out the situation and decide if he should act and when. Meanwhile, he befriends a little girl and supports Yihang’s medical efforts – what a guy! Murong Chong is clearly a kickass dude, which is neither here nor there because his overall function in White Haired Witch is questionable. There’s a big story here that mixes intrigue with history and fiction, but the characters and situations are too numerous and never really engage. Jacob Cheung doesn’t tell a compelling or even coherent story, which is a miss on his part.
Worse, the convoluted plot distracts from what should be the main attraction: Lian Nishang’s eventual transformation into a bitter white-haired killing machine. The film certainly lays the groundwork. For political reasons, Yihang must denounce his romance with Nishang, which contradicts his earlier romantic promises. But even after Nishang’s hair turns white you simply wait and wait and wait some more for her to complete her tragic transformation, lose her memory and humanity, and become a warrior-witch supreme. That eventually does happen – not really a spoiler because come on, that’s why you paid to see the film – but even then Nishang doesn’t go crazy and slice and dice whole bunches of people. Instead she makes a beeline to fight the lone true villain, whose identity I can’t really reveal because that would be a spoiler. Man, describing movies is tough business nowadays. Bottom line: Those tuning in for lots of white-haired wreckage might want to reconsider.
White Haired Witch of Lunar Kingdom clocks in at a fairly compact 103 minutes, which is a relief in today’s climate of bloated genre films. Unfortunately, the truncated time means stuffing in way too much, forcing the film to deliver exposition awkwardly. For example, a character will show up in a scene and verbally recap everything they figured out offscreen, which explains why they showed up onscreen when they really should be somewhere else. The other party’s response is usually to nod and then start fighting. Yay, we got action! But seriously, this is weak storytelling. Cheung would have been better served eliminating some of his characters or subplots to put more focus on Nishang and Yihang. As is, the romance is passable, helped in no small part by the insane physical beauty of the two leads. There’s a certain segment of the moviegoing audience that lives for pretty people making eyes at each other. Here, that segment is served.
Even more served: Huang Xiaoming fans who luuurve him. Huang is a solid actor but his demeanor in White Haired Witch is basically Casanova dialed up to eleven. Huang conspicuously choks (Hong Kong slang for “forcefully make oneself look handsome”) at everyone in his path, from Fan Bingbing on down; it’s like he’s attempting to make love to his co-stars and also the director, camera operator, gaffer and tea lady. Huang’s dashing/smarmy performance offers its own brand of entertainment, but it easily takes the viewer out of the movie. Fan Bingbing is much better, conveying Lian Nishang’s pride, passion and heartbreak effectively. Her performance is no match for Brigitte Lin’s, just as Huang’s acting is way below Leslie Cheung’s. Still, these comparisons may be a bit unfair since White Haired Witch is more of a measured costume film and not the baroque spectacle that was The Bride with White Hair. This is really a case of same species, different animal.
Then again, Leslie Cheung’s song from The Bride with White Hair, “Red Face, White Hair”, does play during the end credits – so let’s go ahead and compare! White Haired Witch gains some poignancy due to the song, but it lacks the gut-wrenching emotions of Bride, not to mention its dark, operatic visuals. Technically, White Haired Witch is fine if unremarkable; costumes and sets are genre-appropriate, and the action choreography from Stephen Tung is fast-paced with solid impact. As a mass audience movie designed for today’s popcorn-munching multiplex hopper, White Haired Witch is thoroughly average, and is as adequate as it is inoffensive. You could do better, you could do worse but you should most definitely want more. In 2035, we might still be talking about The Bride with White Hair. We won’t be talking about The White Haired Witch of Lunar Kingdom
(Kozo, 7/2014) |
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