#cungle

It’s good to know that despite all of the innovations and changes that have come with film over the years, kung-fu movies remain a staple genre.  Interestingly enough, however, the genre has adapted subtle elements from the previously mentioned innovations, and integrated these elements in ways that amplify the already immersive experience the genre presents.  New legends have stepped to the forefront as well, chief among them being Ip Man, the man responsible for training Bruce Lee.  Of the many movies made about him, my favorite (at the moment) is hands down Wong Kar-wai’s romantic take on the man, The Grandmaster. 

Ip Man (Tony Leung), a grandmaster in the Chinese martial art discipline Wing Chun, is a reflective member of the Foshan population with a reputation as a formidable opponent.  China is divided into a Southern region, where Ip Man resides, and a Northern region, where area grandmaster Gong Yutian (Wang Qingxiang), a Wudang Boxing practitioner, has decided to step down.  In the wake of this move, his disciple Ma San (Zhang Jin) is appointed as the new Northern grandmaster, and Gong Yutian suggests the Southern region appoint their own.  As the Southern grandmasters argue, however, Ma San takes an aggressive stance, which in turn sets a tone of Northern dominance.  Gong Er (Zhang Ziyi), the daughter of Gong Yutian, arrives in hopes of convincing her father to change his mind and save her family legacy, but Gong Yutian is insistent on stepping down in his own manner.  The Southern grandmasters nominate Ip Man as their representative, and he visits a number of them on an educational mission prior to facing Gong Yutian.  In the wake of the two grandmasters meeting, however, an exchange of ideals takes place rather than combat, leaving Ip Man as a true grandmaster, Ma San as a sitting tyrant, and Gong Er as a victim of ideals set by the times.  In a final effort to save her family legacy, Gong Er visits Ip Man, and in their confrontation, a connection is forged that alters the path of both of their lives forever.

Ip Man has always stood for a higher standard of honor, but the way that Wong Kar-wai manages to fold complex ideas of unconditional familial love versus respect-born love from an equal brings new depths to the honor.  On top of that, Ip Man is thrown the gauntlet of duty versus passion, where his skill makes him the proper candidate, but his nature makes him hesitant to immediately answer such a brash nature of call.  Once the nomination is accepted, however, he still takes the time to prove his skill and worth through a series of rites of passage, which not only instills faith in those that nominated him, but unifies the Southern region in their cause.  Ip Man exudes the qualities of knowledge, wisdom and understanding that are hand in hand with the martial arts, while showing a dedication to both his blood family and the family he is tied to by discipline.  The way that he walks his path and chooses to navigate his battles further drives that knowledge, wisdom and understanding concept home.

Wong Kar-wai does a great job of recontextualizing Wing Chun and many other disciplines to those who may be more so film fans than fans of the kung-fu genre.  The entire film echoes Doctor Zhivago, with the narrative now focusing on a struggle for ideals, all with the backdrop of war remaining perfectly in place, as well as the iconic train imagery.  The previously mentioned war remains an invasive element, brutally interrupting our narrative in this film, as well as bringing tragedy to Ip Man that propels him forward towards Gong Er.  The humanization of Ip Man and Gong Er, both presented as formidable and lethal fighters, is often not explored deeply in kung-fu films, but with the flourish that Wong Kar-wai provides, that humanitarian display of deep emotion and passion plays front and center.  Gong Er’s journey is especially tragic, as the gender roles and moires of the time pushed her towards being a doctor, a respectable and successful title in its own right, but at the sake of duty for saving her family legacy, a sacrifice that clearly pains her deeply.

The elaborate backgrounds and environments that the characters maneuver through are breathtaking, especially the combat locations.  In terms of combat, Wong Kar-wai uses frame rate shifts and cutaways beautifully to punctuate key moments in the battles, which are quite often the slight details that only those familiar with martial arts may notice.  In turn, the camera manages to dance among the moments quite well in terms of cinematography, catching all of the intimacy and respect that is being presented in the frame.  The intimacy and respect is amplified by the numerous use of stunning close-ups, giving us subtle insight into the deep reflection that many of the characters go through.  Wong Kar-wai meshes the several distinct story styles together through very natural tonal shifts, allowing all elements to feel present in the narrative and equally focused, though distinct elements are showcased at proper times.

Tony Leung brings traditional leading man aspects to the Ip Man role, displaying a pure and tender connection with Song Hye-kyo, while providing viewers with a richly nuanced and textured connection with Zhang Ziyi, whose intensity burns through the limits of the frame.  The Southern masters provide a deep range personalities, from the humor of Zhao Benshan to the artistic passion of Chang Chen, and several shades in-between.  Wang Qingxiang represents the fading honor of a bygone era, especially in the sense that he passes along the title out of a seeming necessity, but the wisdom is handed over only when the calling to do so is fulfilled.  Zhang Jin and his brash, boorish nature make him a proper protagonist for a film that concerns itself with ideals of honor, beauty, passion and romance.