Chang Cheh, Wu Ma, Pao Hsueh-Li: The water margin (1972)

Cast: David Chiang, Ti Lung, Ku Feng, Tetsurô Tanba, Toshio Kurosawa, Yueh Hua
Shaw Brothers’ swordplay movies in their heyday were known for their epic qualities, but The Water Margin ranks especially heavy on grandeur and magnificence. The studio spared no expense in allowing their star director Chang Cheh to adapt one of China’s greatest literary works for the jade screen. The film is an ensemble piece drawing together the bulk of the studio’s top stars, in addition to a couple of Japan’s finest for leading roles. The story of righteous martial brothers labeled outlaws is perfectly suited to Cheh’s brand of cinematic storytelling, known as heroic bloodshed. With expert choreography from his best action directors who draw inspiration directly from the original book, a cast of hundreds, and wonderful sets, the film is truly an impressive sight to behold.
Set during the tumultuous Sung Dynasty in the early part of the 12th century, Outlaws of the Marsh was a sprawling fictional account of 108 real-life heroes who fought to protect the Emperor from rivals and turncoats. Much too large and complex to be adapted in whole, several chapters were selected as source material for what became The Water Margin and its sequel, All Men Are Brothers. Even so, the sheer number of heroes and events depicted in this first tale are more than enough to send the unwary viewer’s head spinning. But Chang Cheh and his longtime writing collaborator Ni Kuang manage to craft a solid adventure that plays well enough on its own.
The film really only focuses on a couple of heroes and villains with the major conflict revolving around two men who take opposite sides as the stage is set for the Liang Shan bandits and the Sung traitors to clash, which they finally do in All Men Are Brothers. After officials disloyal to the Emperor hire a peerless fighter named ‘Golden Spear’ Shi Wengong (Toshjo Kurozawa) to kill a senior brother in the Liang Shan crew, his mates react by attempting to recruit a similarly fierce fighter named ‘Jade Dragon’ Lu Jun-yi (Tamba Tetsuro). At first reluctant, Jun-yi’s hand is forced when his own wife and the man she is having an affair with conspire against him and he’s thrown into prison for supposedly harboring bandits. Seeing as how they are partially responsible for Jun-yi’s predicament, the Liang Shan men hatch several plots to rescue him with the aid of Jun-yi’s student, a musical and martial arts prodigy with invincible wrestling technique named ‘Young Dragon’ Yen Ching (David Chiang). After a daring rescue moments before Jun-yi’s execution, the heroes make their escape only to face Shi Wengong and his personal army.
Like most martial arts films, the action in The Water Margin really drives the film, but a good story for a framework helps tremendously. The plot is more fleshed out than usual and principle characters all appear larger than life, yet assessable. This is especially true for Fan Mei-sheng’s wonderful role as the simple-minded, yet fierce fighter ‘Black Whirlwind’ Li Kui. Mei-sheng is the barrel-chested and burly character actor who makes up one of many underappreciated stars at SB who consistently delivered excellent performances in smaller roles. But here, he steals the show in his few scenes as an overzealous fighter with twin axes whose battle shout of, “Black Whirlwind Li is here!” sends shutters through his foes. He goes on to practically own the sequel.
Although his character isn’t essential to the story, David Chiang is regularly front and center. Clearly Chang Cheh is playing favorites by not only making Chiang the most capable fighter, but letting him be the only one to get a girl and his own theme music. That’s right. Every time Chiang goes into a cool pose or is recognized by the enemy a breathy “chicka-chick-ah” is played. If anyone needs a reference point, think of the soundtrack to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986). If this sounds out of place, it isn’t. The rest of the soundtrack is surprisingly contemporary for a 12th century story. Whammy guitar riffs, blatant Ennio Morricone-style Spaghetti Western motifs, chants, and dirge-like organ grinding are commonplace. This becomes one of Chang Cheh’s gifts in that he pulls elements from Western culture and makes it his own within the framework of his film. The music, as strange as it may seem, fits the film and the scenes better than any traditional Chinese tunes would.
For action, Chang Cheh stuck a little closer to his source material. Action directors Tong Gaai and Lau Kar-leung had already helped to establish the Chang Cheh style by this point. Lau would of course go on to direct his own features with a preferred emphasis on more realistic depictions of Shaolin kung fu technique. But for The Water Margin, all of the choreographers including Lau Kar-wing and Chan Chuen had the added task of adapting the martial arts as described in the original story. What viewers will see is remarkably different as a result as great emphasis is put on grappling and throws, or Chinese wrestling. David Chiang’s character is portrayed as a top wrestler which is funny to see as he uses his small frame to toss the likes of heavyweight Fan Mei-shing around like a rag doll.
Weapons use also factors in heavily with poles, spears, and swords as the common choices. None of the actors stand out as particularly impressive in their abilities to wield them, but it appears intentional. Instead, the choreography itself is king. A highlight is an early sparring match between Toshio Kurosawa and some of the stunt extras who play his students. He uses his pole to take on ten of them at once in an elaborate and impressive display of placement, timing, and form as he evades their collective spears and disarms them. Cheh’s dynamic shots capture it all spectacularly as much of the film is shot.
Quality action, storytelling, and music could easily be enough to recommend The Water Margin, but Chang Cheh doesn’t stop there. Excellent use of outdoor locales, colorful Sung-era costumes, and large numbers of extras in both combat and city scenes all combine to elevate this film above the usual standards set by Shaw Brothers. Admittedly, the film neglects great martial arts actors like Ti Lung and Chen Kuan-tai who only appear in small supporting roles, but there are more than enough great performances from the leads to overcome this fault. Special mention goes to prolific Japanese actors Tamba Tetsuro (You Only Live Twice, Goyokin) and Toshio Kurosawa (Lady Snowblood) who interesting appear in prominent roles that overshadow most of their Chinese co-stars. They both fit right in despite their limited experience in Hong Kong martial arts moviemaking and manage to add weight to the story.






PW: malamute