Shaw Brothers

The Comedy of Mismatches

Don’t let the title fool you, A Comedy Of Mismatches is not what you expect. Remember when you read Shakespeare in high school and couldn’t figure out why the plays weren’t funny? Then the teacher explained that in Shakespeare’s time ‘comedy’ meant a play in which everyone got married, not a play in which Ben Stiller got kicked in the testicles.

There’s absolutely no testicle kicking in A Comedy Of Mismatches, but there is a lot of marrying and a lot of confused couples. After a chance meeting in a temple, two couples exchange tokens of affection. Unnerved by their screaming parents, the couples muff the hand-off — each girl gets the wrong boy’s fan and each boy gets the wrong girl’s hanky.

And since the tokens are monogrammed, each lover ends up with the wrong name. This would not be a problem, if the boys didn’t immediately arrange to marry the women they thought they met — hence the mismatches. Instead of being engaged to true love Liu Weiliang (Pat Ting Hung), the scholar Sun Yulang (Chin Feng) is actually engaged to a woman whose hanky he got by mistake.

Shenanigans with a third couple, who are mostly kept in the background, lead to the marriage of the Sun and Liu anyway. But thanks to a set of baroque coincides that only happen in romantic comedies, Sun is dressed up as a woman and Liu is wearing the groom’s robe.

While all these miscommunications and wacky situations could develop into comedy, they never quite do. Instead of pushing humor, A Comedy Of Mismatches sticks to romance. And even that never really fills out, thanks to the shapelessness of the characters. Beyond Liu’s desire for a good match, and Sun’s goofy humor, we never learn much about the couple or what they see in each other.

Instead of characterization, the film spends its final 10 minutes recapping in painful detail exactly what happened in the previous eighty minutes. Just in case it was unclear, I guess.

With a little more wit, or some development of its numerous couples, A Comedy Of Mismatches would be more memorable. Instead, I used it a cheap way to mention kicking Ben Stiller in the testicles.

The Comedy of Mismatches
Dir: Hsieh Chun, Law Chun
Released: May 14, 1964

Lovers' Rock

A refreshing change from Shaw Brothers' normally over-dramatic dramas, Lovers' Rock delivers the drama, but keeps the hysterics to a minimum. Instead of the usual credulity-straining trials of a star-crossed couple, director Pan Lei focuses on small town characters and a mostly believable love triangle.

Lovers' Rock was Pan Lei debut film with Shaw Brothers, but he wasn’t new to filmmaking. As a writer and director Pan had worked in the Taiwanese film industry since the late 1950s. To Shaw Brothers, Pan probably seemed the perfect package — an intelligent, literary director that had connections with a group of Taiwanese actors and experience working under Taiwan’s single-party, martial-law government. Could there be any better combination for a studio looking to expand their market share in the island nation?

And so Pan’s first film for the Hong Kong studio was filmed in Taiwan, with an almost all-Taiwanese cast (mostly actors that had, I expect, previously worked with Pan Lei) about a Taiwanese fishing village. Gee, I wonder who this film was made for?

Regardless of why Shaw Brothers hired Pan Lei, the studio ended up with a smart, flexible and talented filmmaker with some serious writing skills. While at Shaws, Pan worked in worked in nearly every genre. And with films like Lovers' Rock and The Fastest Sword, he beefed up normally thin genre films with thoughtful scripts and smart acting.

The plot of Lovers' Rock was pretty common fare in the early 1960s — doomed lovers and family dramas were the building blocks of most Shaw Brothers weepies. So when outsider Qin Yu (Chiao Chuang) falls for the coquettish but confusing Lin Qiuzi (Cheng Pei Pei), everything feels very familiar.

But Pan surrounds this plot with a mostly scruffy-looking assortment of character actors, many of whom worked with Pan Lei throughout his career, that provide the small fishing town with a believable population and a solid foundation for the action. This sort of attention to small roles was uncommon at the star-focused studio, as was Pan’s focus on strong, realistic acting.

Well, mostly strong acting. Lovers' Rock's main stumbling block is its male star, Chiao Chuang. I’ve never cared for his abilities as an actor and in Lovers' Rock he’s required to channel a James Dean attitude that he never achieves. The gruff, flawed character of fisherman Da Gui (Huang Chung Hsin) is always more interesting than Qin — it’s a shame he’s missing for one-third of the movie.

The third star, Cheng Pei Pei, would become a major Shaw actress after Lovers' Rock. But after 1966’s Come Drink With Me, it was rare to see her in modern-day roles. She acquits herself well here as the confused and confusing modern teenager Lin Qiuzi.

With Lovers' Rock, Pan Lei established himself as a unique voice at Shaw Brothers. Currently, only a smattering of his films are on DVD; I’m looking forward to seeing more.

Lovers' Rock
Dir: Pan Lei
Released: October 17, 1964

The Dancing Millionairess

Can a film honestly be called a musical if it contains no signing for the first ninety-percent of the movie? What if it also contains almost no dancing? Maybe defining a musical more a question of style instead of content.

For 97 minutes of its 109 minute running time, no one sings in The Dancing Millionairess. And the film’s first dance routine isn’t until minute 45 (yes, I kept track). And while the movie ends with a celebration of singing and dancing, the film still feels pretty barren when it comes to musical numbers.

But yet The Dancing Millionairess still feels like a musical, even in its talkiest moments. The tone is light, the pace bouncy, the colors bright and the stars polished. It’s got everything a musical needs — except for the singing.

One of the tricks to making a musical, at least a musical in the Hollywood style, is to create a world in which people breaking into song is not abnormal. For example, the highly artificial set-design used in classic Gene Kelly films helped to create a sense of other-worldliness that helped make the singing more normal. West Side Story opens with a perception-changing top-down view of Manhattan, in the hopes that singing gang-members will seem less bizarre.

Perhaps after watching tons of MGM musicals, I’ve come to associate their visual aesthetic with the musical genre. So any film that apes this style, which The Dancing Millionairess frequently does, becomes a musical in my mind — even if there’s almost no signing.

And so Doe Chin recreates the successful style he used in the earlier, more musical musical Les Belles, dropping most of the singing in favor of poetic narration and replacing complicated dance routines with light, poppish boogieing — leaving much of the movie’s charm in the hands of real-life couple Peter Chen Ho and Betty Loh Tih.

The pair does well, especially once they are allowed to unite on-screen — a gratification that is delayed far too long. The film’s highlights are their scenes of content relaxation.

Sadly, those scenes are few. Most of the film is muddled by an exceedingly complex romantic-comedy plot that I could not explain even if wanted to. All that really matters is that there’s a dance troupe that wants to put on a show and corporate president Betty Loh Tih has the money they need — cue the misunderstandings, cute meetings and jaunty music.

Although The Dancing Millionairess ends on a crowd-pleasing high, there’s not much positive to say about the preceding 90 minutes. The film never really hits a comedic stride; instead it just bumbles along until its stars can finally share the screen. Musical or not, the film is far from Shaw’s, or Doe Chin’s, best.

The Dancing Millionairess
Dir: Doe Chin
Released: February 12, 1964

Return of the Phoenix

One of the few huangmei diao comedies, Return Of The Phoenix delivers a light alternative to the genre’s usually overwrought plots — and romance, of course. You can’t have huangmei diao without romance.

As with most huangmei films, the plot is whipped-foam light. Mu  (Chin Feng), a young fighter from a disgraced family, is engaged to Xue-e (Lee Heung-gwan), beautiful youngest daughter of a former general. But through the machinations of Xueyan, the general’s oldest and least attractive daughter, Mu believes that he’s engaged to a deluded, slutty reject.

Meanwhile, Xue-e’s also being pursued by another admirer, Prince Chu (Cheung Kwong-Chiu), the moronic bucktoothed nephew of the Emperor. Let the comedy begin!

Most of the comedy comes from mistaken identity and the unattractiveness of the Xueyan and Chu. And, for the most part, it’s pretty simplistic stuff. Unlike The Bride Napping, another comedy with huangmei roots, there’s nothing very witty about Return of the Phoenix, despite the presence of two of Shaw’s best comic actors, Go Bo Shu and Cheung Kwong-Chiu.

At least there was nothing that witty in what I saw. But I’m severely handicapped when it comes to huangmei films. With their simple music and familiar plots, one of the main draws of huangmei films was their lyrics. Since I don’t speak Mandarin, I’m going to miss any puns, allusions or bon mots that might be hiding in the words. I’m entirely dependent on the subtitles, and subtitles have a way of hiding humor.

So it’s possible that Return Of The Phoenix may be the funniest thing since a drunk Oscar Wilde. I wouldn’t know.

Return of the Phoenix
Dir: Kao Li & Li Han-hsiang
Released: July 24, 1963

The Price of Love

There are few movies that have successfully tackled love amongst the handicapped. Too often these films fall into easy sentimentality, or excessive moral posturing. The films become about handicaps instead of love.

The advantage given The Price of Love is that it comes from a genre known for excessive tragedy, absurdly overblown trauma and hanky-wrenching finales. Compared to these melodramatic gyrations, the stars' physical impairments are almost minor.

After Jui Fang (Chin Ping), a blind woman in an abusive household, meets hunchbacked musician Wu Shang (played by real-life hunchbacked musician Teddy Robin), a fairly standard wenyi weepie unfolds. Love gained, love lost, tragedies, musical numbers, etc.

The Price of Love's biggest surprise is that it offers very few surprises. Instead of bending the rules of romantic melodrama for its handicapped characters, it never waivers from the Show Brothers formula.

Because it’s so faithful to the blueprint, there’s not much to recommend the film. Beyond Teddy Robin’s folky-crooner songs of love lost and found, there’s little in The Price of Love that really stands out.

The Price Of Love
Dir: Wu Chia Hsiang
Released: November 6, 1970

A Time For Love

Another madcap ‘comedy’ replete with singing, brief nudity and largely unwatchable zaniness. Honestly, when the comic highlight of a film is a sexually aggressive robot, there’s not much to laugh at.

On the plus side, the film does have some moments of fine satire, especially in the opening scenes when the servants of the rich Old Lau sing about how great it is to rob the old man blind. And Lily Ho as Pearl, the servant’s daughter who falls for the Lau scion, shows some decent comedic instincts.

While A Time For Love is slightly better than its predecessor, Guess Who Killed My 12 Lovers, it still runs out of steam about 45 minutes into its 90 minute length. By the time the film introduces the rapist robot, it’s clear that they are stretching for anything to keep the movie moving. It succeeds, if only because it’s so jaw-droppingly mind-boggling.

A Time For Love
Dir: Kuei Chi-Hung
Released: November 16, 1970

Love Without End

Whenever a film goes through the remake process, I have to ask why. Only nine years had passed since Love Without End charmed audiences in 1961. Why remake a film that’s not even a decade old? Why remake a film forever linked with Linda Lin Dai, Shaw’s biggest, and first tragic, star.

So, why? Nine years may seem like a short time, but the Shaw Brothers of 1961 was still a small, growing studio battling with rival MP & GI for box office supremacy. What better way to charge into a new decade than with a remake that helped launch the studio into the 1960s?

And what better way to solidify a potential new star? Jenny Hu had been working at Shaw since 1966, but he career didn’t really start to move until 1969, when she started in 3 films. By putting her into a high-profile remake of a classic film, perhaps Shaw Brothers hoped to create another super star.

But nothing puts a filmmaker more firmly between a rock and a hard place than remaking a classic. Deviate from the original too much, and the fans will cry foul. Stay too close to the source, and there’s no reason to remake the film.

Director and writer Pan Lei takes the safe route and, with the exception of the colorful sets and short mini-skirts, his version of Love Without End might as well take place in 1961.

That’s not to say the film is bad—the remake is as good as the original, and it’s beautifully made. It just never differentiates itself from its predecessor. And the changes it does make only take the harsh edges off the male lead, Tang Pengnan (Ling Yun). And few films are well served by making their characters less interesting.

If Pan Lei’s Love Without End wasn’t a remake, it would stand out as one of their romantic classics. Instead, it’s simply a high-quality shadow.

Love Without End
Director: Pan Lei
Released: July 18, 1970

Pink Tears

Chin Chien’s first feature for Shaw Brothers, Pink Tears presaged the work he’d do for the studio over the next five years — small-budget wenyi weepies that exhibit flashes of creativity amidst long dry spells of wrote formula.

Pink Tears also paired Chin Chien with star Julie Yeh Feng for the first time. Like Chin Chien, Yeh Feng had recently moved over to Shaw after a long career in the film industry. Neither stayed with Shaw Brothers for very long — Chin Chien committed suicide in 1969, Yeh Feng retired from film in 1970 — but the pair made two more movies together that continued Chin Chien’s tradition of erratic output — the terrible Unfinished Melody and the creative Farewell, My Love.

In Pink Tears, Julie Yeh Feng plays Bai Lilan, a hooker with the heart of gold. Widowed after giving birth to her first child, she’s sold her looks to pay for her daughter’s care. Although her high-rolling lifestyle has made her dangerously ill, she still pushes herself — spending late nights at parties and the rest of her time with her daughter, Xiaolan (Fung Bo Bo).

When Xiaolan’s music teacher, Zhang Zhi Ping (Ling Yuen), discovers Bai’s dual lives, he’s shocked. How can a courtesan also be a good mother? After Bai’s illness gets worse, he convinces her to give up being a kept woman and marry him. Damn what society thinks, Zhang promises, their love will prevail.

If you’ve ever seen a wenyi film, you can probably guess how well Zhang’s promise holds up.

Other than Julie Yeh Feng’s raucous rendition of the film’s theme song, and a few melodramatic cliff hangers, Pink Tears doesn’t really stand out amongst the wenyi crowd.

Pink Tears
Dir: Chin Chien
Released: May 27, 1965

Sons of Good Earth

Who would expect a rousing, flag waiving pean to patriotism to begin with a 30-minute remake of An American In Paris? Not me, that’s for sure. But that’s exactly what the first third of Sons of Good Earth is, all the way down to the incidental music that sounds straight out of the MGM vault.

Struggling painter Yu Ri narrates the opening, introducing his town and its residents. Unlike Gene Kelly film, Yu Ri’s not worried about being broke, but about the weightier matter of the imminent Japanese invasion of China.

After helping a pretty girl, He Hua (Betty Loh Tih), out of trouble with an abusive mistress, Yu Ri, his sidekick friend Guan Shan Sheng (Lee Kwan) and He Hua all settle into a cosy lighthearted life; at no point to they sing “Good Morning,” but the local kids do entertain them with a patriotic song about crushing the Japanese.

I’ve seen An American in Paris and Singing in the Rain countless times, and it was disconcerting to see them remolded so drastically. Not that King Hu does a bad job, in fact he captures the MGM spirit quite well. But I never expected to see Gene Kelly’s joie de vive mixed with anti-Japanese jingoism.

Eventually the movie has to address the war, and the MGM homage is dropped in favor of a more standard WWII drama plot. Collaborationist conspire against Yu Ri and He Hua; the lecherous Japanese general rapes Chinese women and brave Chinese men form a guerilla army.

Eventually the film devolves into all out warfare, with Yu Ri mounting the barricades and wielding a rifle like a lifelong soldier. Rousing, no doubt. But the best aspects of the film and completely discarded. Betty Loh Tih disappears for the last third of the film and Peter Chen Ho, a gifted comic actor, looks quite out of place gutting a Japanese soldier with a sword.

Sons of Good Earth was King Hu’s solo directorial debut, and it’s most unlike his later films. But its mixture of the genial and the brutal can be seen in his wuxia films like Come Drink With Me and Dragon Inn. But he never made another musical.

Sons of Good Earth
Dir: King Hu
Released: May 6, 1965

The Story of Sue San

As a director, King Hu will be remembered mostly for his swordplay films — Come Drink With Me, Dragon Inn, Touch Of Zen; he did more than make classics of the genre, he helped to define the vocabulary and rules that would be used by hundreds of films.

Bu Hu didn’t start his career with wuxia flicks. His first film for Shaw Brothers was The Story of Sue San, a Haungmei opera that stands out by having very little singing and a wide variety of unlikable characters.

After catching a quick glimpse of Sue San (Betty Loh Tih), the smitten Wang Jin Long (Chao Lei) discovers that his new love is a prostitute in a local brothel. Undaunted by her current job, Wang quickly drains his family fortune just to catch her attention. Once the locals see the money flowing like water, they quickly get in on the action and scam the oblivious Wang out of every last penny.

Unsatisfied with fancy dinners and ruinously expensive dates, Wang decides to 'marry' #8216;marry 'marry' #8217; Sue San. This bit of the movie confused me and is likely to confuse others. Although she’s a paid companion, Sue San is still a virgin. When Wang 'marries' #8216;marries 'marries' #8217; her, all he’s really doing is paying for the right to take her virginity. It’s not a real marriage, more like a long-term lease with crippling payment schedule.

Wang’s expensive fantasy eventually collapses and various tragedies befal the young lovers, as is the tradition of Haungmei films. But, although the plot follows the basic Haungmei structure, it’s filled with a variety of greedy, shortsighted chararcters, which not as traditional.

Only the put-upon Sue San stands out as a pure-hearted victim. She struggles on while the film takes every opportunity to lambast the pampered and naive Wang. This criticism may have been King Hu’s idea, or maybe it came from Haungmei innovator Li Han-siang, credited as a co-director on the film. Li’s touch shows in the movie’s rich design and bright musical numbers. Han-siang was no stranger to critiquing lust-blinded men (see Beyond the Great Wall, for example), so it’s hard to pinpoint the genesis of Sue San's pessimistic moments.

But that distinction is largely unimportant. The film remains entertaining both as a unique haungmei and as an early effort of King Hu. The always entertaining presence of Betty Loh Tih only makes the film that much more pleasurable.

The Story Of Sue San (aka The Story of Su San)
Dir: King Hu, Li Han-siang
Released: October 1, 1964

Note: Other sources place the film’s release in 1962. It’s possible this film was made in 1962, but not released until 1964. That wasn’t uncommon with Shaw Brothers films. But I think it’s more likely that this was a 1964 production, a chance given to King Hu after his work on The Love Eterne.