More Than Kung Fu

The first of director Chang Cheh’s box-office smashes, One-Armed Swordsman not only pushed his career into the stratosphere; it cemented the Shaw Brothers marketing claims of a “wuxia century.”¹

While the newly restored love for wuxia films might not have lasted one hundred years, the impact this film had on the Hong Kong film industry could easily last that long, if not longer. Not necessarily in terms of story, in which Chang borrowed heavily from earlier wuxia novels and films, but in terms of technique.

Hand held cameras that mingle with the fighters? That was Chang. Given a tiny budget for Tiger Boy (1966), his first directorial work with Shaws, he worked quickly and cheaply with hand held cameras. In One-Armed Swordsman he experiments far more with the hand held look than he had in his previous films, allowing the camera to wobble, shake and join the fights.

Chang’s film helped to firmly establish the quick pacing that became a Hong Kong trademark. Most Shaw Brother films were kept to a running time of 90 minutes; but even with One-Armed Swordsman’s spacious running time of almost two hours, Chang keeps things moving, refusing to allow plot exposition to get in the way of action.

Compare Chang’s speed to King Hu’s Come Drink With Me, which, although it is 20 minutes shorter than One-Armed Swordsman, feels like a leisurely stroll next to Chang’s all-out sprint. When the titular hero, Fang Kang (Jimmy Wang Yu), meets a quartet of villains at a local inn, the similarities between the scene and the justly famous inn sequence of Come Drink With Me are obvious. But the differences between the two directors are equally clear. Where Hu let the tension build over several minutes, ratcheting up pressure moment by moment, Chang simply can’t allow a film to sit still for that long and jumps straight into the fighting.

King Hu, whose films I adore, was undoubtedly a master. But his approach is rarely seen in Hong Kong these days while Chang’s methods are seen in nearly every film.

One-Armed Swordsman also stands out because it shows Chang Cheh to be something other than a one-note misogynist whose love of manliness was only matched by his dismissal of femininity, a reputation that he may never entirely shake. One-Armed Swordsman features none of the male bonding that marked most Chang films. Fang Kang may be attacked by a woman—his master’s daughter Pei Er (Pan Ying Zi)—but he is also saved by, and remains loyal to, a—gasp!—woman.

Hisao Man (Chiao Chiao), Fang Kang’s savior, recognizes in her patient the split nature of masculinity that was often overshadowed in Chang’s films—the need for stability and love contrasting with the desire for righteousness and strength. While Hisao Man would prefer Fang Kang to sever his ties to the marital arts world, she also knows that he can not; reluctantly, she helps him to re-learn his swordplay skills.

Both One-Armed Swordsman’s bold style and its story sympathetic to the women who still made up a large part of the market helped it earn unheard of box-office receipts, over one million dollars. That amount sounds trivial today, but was huge at the time, earning Chang the nickname, “The Million Dollar Director.” The money he earned for Shaws may be long gone, but his style lives on.

One-Armed Swordsman
Dir: Chang Cheh
Released: July 26, 1967

¹ – Law Kar “The Origin and Development of Shaws’ Colour Wuxia Century.” The Shaw Screen: A Preliminary Study.