This film would prove to be Jackie Chan's big break into the Hong Kong film industry and help redefine the kung fu comedy genre. Ben Johnson discusses this critical film in terms of chop socky film progression and the loveable charms of its athletic star.
Snake in the Eagle's Shadow
Distributor: Contender Entertainment Group Format: Region 2 (PAL) Length: 94 min. Aspect Ratio: 1.78:1 Audio: Cantonese, English (Dubbed) Subtitles: English Extras: Jackie Chan Filmography & Biography, Photo Gallery, Theatrical Trailer, Interview with Producer Sound: Dolby Digital
Year of Release: 1978; Origin: Hong Kong; Studio: Seasonal Films
Director: Yuen Woo-ping; Producer: Ng See-yuen; Script: Clifford Choi Gai-gwong, Hsi Hua-an, Ng See-yuen; Action Director: Yuen Woo-ping, Hsu Hsia; Cast Jackie Chan, Simon Yuen Siu-tien, Hwang Jang-lee, Roy Horan, Tino Wong Cheung, Dean Shek Tin, Peter Chan Lung.
Alternative Titles: Bruce vs. Snake in the Eagle's Shadow; She xing diao shou (Cantonese title); Se ying diu sau (Mandarin title); Eagle's Shadow (USA reissue title)
Trailer: Click below to view the trailer for Snake in the Eagle's Shadow.
Plot Synopsis
Ching Dynasty China: A two-hundred-year feud between the Eagle Claw Masters and Snake Fist Masters is nearing its conclusion, with only a handful of remaining Snake Fist exponents left. Chien Fu is a naïve and bullied orphan working as a cleaner and ‘human punch bag’ at a substandard kung fu school when he meets a Beggar who instils a little confidence in him and becomes a close and trusted friend, eventually teaching him some martial arts. The Beggar turns out to be the last of the Snake Fist fighters, and soon Chien Fu is embroiled in the feud with the Eagle Claw fighters after his wise old teacher is singled out for annihilation.
Review
If Enter the Dragon is Top Gun, then this film is Hot Shots! Unquestionably one of the most successful kung fu comedies of its generation, Snake struck a chord with its audiences tired of the stoic period costume dramas, and re-energised the stagnant genre with slapstick routines, underdog characters, and acrobatic choreography. Truth is it’s hard to watch it these days and be fully aware of it’s massive impact, what with the multitude of copycats that followed, some good and some bloody awful, and it’s been somewhat overshadowed by its exciting, if slightly similar sequel, Drunken Master . The key to its success undoubtedly lies in Ng See-yuen’s stellar casting, what Jackie Chan calls ‘the right timing’ where the hottest new talent in Hong Kong cinema merged together. This film made the careers of Yuen Woo Ping, Hwang Jang Lee, Jackie Chan and Simon Yuen, now household names in the world of kung fu cinema, so to question Snake’s influence is just crazy talk.
It is important to realise that Snake isn’t the first film of its kind, with kung fu and broad comedy being pioneered at the Golden Harvest studios under Sammo Hung, with his directorial debut The Iron-Fisted Monk released a full year before, and also attempted by Jackie Chan prior to the making of this movie. Before Snake, Jackie Chan was deemed box office poison. After numerous roles as supporting players in rubbish Hong Kong
films, Jackie was spotted by Fist of Fury director Lo Wei and pioneered as the ‘new Bruce Lee’ in a ten-year contract which saw Jackie make another succession of rubbish Hong Kong films. Lo’s initial stance of moulding Chan into a straight-laced Little Dragon figure can be seen in Dragon Fist and New Fist of Fury, but it’s pretty obvious to anyone that Chan’s movements herald Buster Keaton and Gene Kelly much more than they do Bruce Lee. Lo Wei did give Jackie a few moments to put in his own creative elements – films like Spiritual Kung Fu and particularly Half a Loaf of Kung Fu, were the humble beginnings of Chan’s clowning persona, and can be seen as some of the first kung fu/slapstick movies. All of his films with Lo Wei bombed regardless, and Lo saw no problem in lending Jackie out to the aspiring new Seasonal Films Corporation, as a means of sabotaging the new studio’s progress with Chan’s unanimously bad luck.
The problem for Lo Wei was that Ng See-yuen’s Seasonal Films were fast becoming the most influential movie-making studio outside of the Golden Harvest/Shaw Brothers rivalry. Ng has a talent for latching on to new trends in the movie scene, and has ‘discovered’ many of Hong Kong’s best talent. His first successes with the studio were the Secret Rivals films, which launched the careers of superkickers John Liu and Hwang Jang Lee. He also dabbled in the moneymaking exploitation of Bruce Lee lookalike films starring Bruce Li. His next target, the kung fu comedy, was prevalent in Hong Kong cinema, but didn’t yet have a true star. When Alexander Fu Sheng turned down the lead role for this film quoting too much money, Ng had to look elsewhere, and eventually found Jackie Chan. Ng told Bey Logan how much of a risk he was taking by casting Chan in his movie: ‘The distributors have a lot of power in Asia… They all begged me not to use Jackie Chan. They told me, ‘No film he has ever starred in has ever been a hit. Please use somebody else, anybody else.’’ (1995:62)
Perhaps Lo Wei’s theory was to cash-in on the contract after another studio would make Chan famous, but it's highly unlikely given the string of poor films Jackie had churned out with Lo, and the new lease of life he’d been given under Ng See-yuen. Lo’s attempts at sabotage hadn’t worked, and Ng started casting the film around Jackie Chan. He brought back the star of Secret Rivals, Korean Taekwondo expert and high-kicking tough nut Hwang Jang Lee, to play the part of the villain, but even that wasn’t an easy task. ‘I had trouble getting him a visa,’ Ng told Bey Logan, ‘The immigration people asked me: why don’t you use a local actor? I told them: Fine! Get me someone local who can kick like him and I will!’ (1995:62)
This is also Yuen Woo Ping’s first movie as director, and it’s true to say that Ng was responsible for launching his career too. He acted as choreographer on a lot of Ng’s early movies, the first being 1971’s Mad Killer, and the two went on to form a long-lasting working relationship. He directed the action for Seasonal Films’ Bloody Fists and Secret Rivals 2, before being offered the limelight with Snake. Woo Ping was also responsible for the casting of the movie’s final major role, the part of the Beggar. ‘We saw many people for that role…’ Woo Ping told Bey Logan, ‘Finally, Ng turned to me and said, ‘What about your father?’’ (1995:63) The role was given to Yuen Woo Ping’s dad, Simon Yuen Siu Tien, a long-time player in the original black and white Wong Fei-hung movies starring Kwan Tak Hing. Simon Yuen’s role would transform his career and neither him, nor the genre as a whole, would be able to shake off the Beggar alter ego.
Jackie Chan told reporter Barrie Patterson that ‘this movie totally changed the action film. This one made me confident,’ which highlights the importance Woo Ping placed on the creative input of Jackie Chan, which is in evidence up there on the screen. He’s full of buoyancy and excitement; it’s difficult to take your eyes off Jackie in this movie. This is in part due to the expert characters, the human instincts of which had rarely been seen before. In Chien Fu, Chan hones his skills as the playful underdog, orphaned and lonely (his best friend’s a cat), abused and naïve, desperately searching for confidence and stability. His on-screen character would change very little from this movie onwards, what Stephen Teo describes as ‘a cross between a human livewire and a boy next door, mostly mischievous but also capable of sensitivity.’ (1997:123) Even his name, Chien Fu, is said to signify simple-mindedness and ‘other characteristics of a sentimental fool’ (Teo 1997:123). Perhaps the biggest trait in Chan’s early incarnations, particularly here, is his youthful naivety, often interpreted as being simple and dim-witted: Chien Fu is so engrossed by the Beggar’s friendship that he never even twigs he’s the wanted Snake Fist master; at one point, he fends off bad guys without even knowing it, his movements being controlled by the Beggar and a long staff; while his naivety is also the burden that gets him into trouble, putting faith in all the wrong people (the cook who double-crosses them at the end, the Eagle Claw Master and the Priest). By the end of the film, the audience feels it’s learnt along with Chien Fu, and we see him progress into a confident fighter. By the end he outsmarts everybody, by combining the Cat’s Paw technique with the Snake Fist to defeat the bad guy.
The most revealing relationship in the movie is that of Chien Fu and the Beggar, which starts off as one of mutual respect rather than a means of achieving a goal, like knowledge or revenge. They become an adopted Father and Son, both victims in one way or another (Chien Fu is bullied and tormented by the school where he works, while the Beggar is on the run and headhunted by the Eagle Claw Masters). They seek solace in each other, and that’s before Chien Fu even dreams of learning martial arts from him – their relationship extends the Master/Pupil boundaries into one of ‘best friends’, which is why the Beggar refuses to be called ‘Teacher’, seen as a violation of their equal standing. Snake focuses on everyday characters, poor country bumpkins who fart, fall over and walk into things. Woo Ping’s nods to class warfare help to underline the underdog element to his narrative, with the rich Manchu villain in all his royal finery picking on an ageing Beggar and his youthful apprentice. They are vulnerable yet volatile, and far removed from the characters that Shaw Brothers were churning out. The only character in the film that Woo Ping chooses to represent the old, stoic ways of traditional kung fu is that of the villain, the Eagle Claw Master, played by Hwang Jang Lee. He’s suave, manipulative, and ruthless, but straight out of any other ‘old school’ chopsocky flick.
Perhaps the greatest break from tradition is the new take on the ageing kung fu master, no longer a bald Shaolin Monk with long eyebrows spouting philosophical words of virtue, but rather a homeless alcoholic swarming with flies and very proud of his bodily fluids. Simon Yuen’s role as the Beggar would become synonymous with the kung fu comedy, and the Beggar role would become a permanent feature for many years to come, often repeated by Simon Yuen himself. As Leon Hunt puts it:
Beggar Su, the dissolute vagabond of so many kung fu comedies, has inner strength but nothing resembling virtue… His hair is a mop of grey straw, nose permanently red, Su is an abject, but invincible, figure. He has few redeeming features, largely living up to his “cunning, violent and mean” reputation during the notoriously sadistic training sequences. (2004:111)
The Beggar would later develop his alcoholic tendencies with the follow-up, Drunken Master, but here he’s relatively grounded, noble, and not quite as sadistic. He’s also seen as caring, treating Chien Fu with much affection, which is not often the case with the standard sifu clichés. The Beggar is quite obviously born out of a backlash to the traditional ways of teaching, and used as a clever comedic device along with Chan’s extraordinary skill. It’s a film about things not being what they’re cracked up to be: the fact that Chien Fu becomes such a diligent and skilled expert, and that an old, decrepit man (with a walking stick) can do such agile and lethal movements.
As a sub-plot, Woo Ping throws in some inter-school rivalry to parody the usually conformist way that kung fu schools are depicted in martial arts pictures. Here, like the character of Beggar Su, the Hungtai School and their rivals, the Waiwu School, are anything but virtuous. They cheat, ridicule and manipulate students, and are seen to be only after one thing: financial gain. In two instances, both schools try to dupe the upper class son of a local Magistrate to receive access to their wealth, with the Waiwu School crippling a student by breaking bricks they’re incapable of breaking, and the Hungtai School using Chien Fu as the ‘human punch bag’ on an unskilled opponent. When Chien Fu learns a little kung fu and fights back to earn some self respect, he is bullied for losing the Magistrate’s custom and banished from the school. The instructors are portrayed as being the problem, power mad and only after self-gain, while the pupils are the victims, and therefore easily swayed. They’re not depicted as being rooted to one particular school, more than happy to up sticks and leave when something better comes along. That’s why it’s easy to like Chien Fu and the Beggar, they’re the only people here who are not vindictive characters.
As Bey Logan states, the film has ‘heart’, highlighted in the fight scenes where you can’t help but root for the players. The theatrics of the choreography and much of the humour certainly draws its influence from the cast’s theatrical backgrounds, sharing the same knockabout dramatics and principals of Peking Opera plucked from a cast of former theatre players (Jackie Chan, Yuen Kwai, Yuen Woo Ping, Fung Hark-on etc.). But where Snake’s choreography set new boundaries was in the obligatory training sequences, which would become a staple addition to many of Woo Ping’s, and the genre’s, follow-up movies. According to Teo, ‘these scenes show Chan developing the masochistic style of his brand of kung fu, where a disciple undergoes tough training (equated with physical suffering) to master the art of a particular style of kung fu.’ (1997:123) This is more so in Drunken Master, where the Beggar subjects the young hero to a multitude of rigorous exercise, but here, where their relationship is built more out of friendship, the training is less excruciating. Having said that, Chien Fu is still put through his paces: he does finger push-ups over burning incense and lifts up his Master on his lap while suspended against two wooden poles. To heighten his sense of awareness, Chien Fu utilises the Snake Fist to collect a basket of eggs atop bamboo shoots. It’s treated as a sequence of bravado, but also one of determination and achievement, and became another obligatory ingredient in the later kung fu comedies.
It’s worth noting that many of the kung fu comedies (the golden era being 1977 to 1985, before guns replaced kung fu) also centred themselves on one particular style of martial arts, with Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow being the forerunner to this. Sammo would use the Wing Chun style to great effect in his seminal kung fu comedies, Warriors Two and The Prodigal Son, as well as forays into more untapped territory, like the supernatural kung fu comedy. Other comedies, post-Drunken Master, would use the style of the Eight Drunken Immortals, or Zui Quan, as their basis, with the practitioner disguising their moves by becoming intoxicated by alcohol, with great comedic consequences. Of the animal styles, the Monkey style is perhaps the most well trodden in kung fu comedy, often accompanied by scratching and screeching and heavily acrobatic choreography (films like Sammo’s Knockabout and the Shaw film Mad Monkey Kung Fu).
Like most of these movies, Snake begins with Jackie Chan performing the movements of the particular style in focus on a red background, much like the Shaw films, as a means of introducing the audience to a new and unfamiliar style of kung fu. In this case, it’s the Snake Fist style. There is little time dedicated to the Eagle Claw style, although it takes equal providence in the movie. Snake also utilises the idea of introducing a newly conceived style of kung fu, in this case the Cat’s Paw, that when used in combination with the Snake Fist defeats the Eagle Claw and owes the film it’s title. In a miraculous sequence, Chien Fu witnesses his pet cat defeat a snake, and in the next scene he’s on a beach in the New Territories, performing an instantly constructed style of the made-up form, complete with cat meows. This new form of ‘anything goes’ kung fu can be seen in numerous kung fu comedies that followed this film: ‘Holy Ghost Claw (Buddhist Fist), ‘Sick’ Kung Fu (Dance of the Drunk Mantis), ‘Laundry’ Kung Fu (Dreadnaught), and, most paradigmatic of all, ‘Garbage Boxing’ (Knockabout), a style based on the detritus of other styles.’ (Hunt 2004:104).
It’s hard to discredit a film that introduced the careers of both Yuen Woo Ping and Jackie Chan, two of the genre’s most influential figures. Along with the work of Sammo Hung, it’s safe to say that these three people were, possibly, the most pivotal figures in the birth of kung fu comedy, a stable ingredient in Hong Kong cinema for many years to follow. Snake may not be the best example of the genre (Drunken Master is better), but it’s still a highly influential and enjoyable film, even after all these years. Although Lo Wei and Ng See-yuen could both claim to have ‘discovered’ Jackie Chan, it’s fair to say that this movie made him discover himself, and gave him the confidence to become a star in his own right. When Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow was released to massive box office appraisal, it was certain that Jackie Chan would never look back.
By: Harry (Registered IP 82.24.206.38) on 24-03-2008 22:39
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