aka Ban Gong Ji

• Directed by Joe Law
• Written by Lo Tzu
• Starring
  • Chiang Da Wei (aka David Chiang)
  • Hsu Fong
  • Toai Hon
  • Hu Gin
• Produced by Chen Wen Ho

I love it when movie titles bring their own punchlines with them. For this one, I have to ask: Would anyone have cared if these kung fu secrets had stayed lost?

One of the reasons I went out of my way to track this one down is because of a fairly unique plot point, one which probably also accounts for the fact that this one was never previously released stateside [okay, I found out later that it was -- so sue me]: The evil warlord making his nefarious plans against the Ching Dynasty uses Christianity as a weapon. In fact, that’s the first thing you learn as the movie opens: “Mr. Badass Warlord uses Christianity as a defense and a means of recruiting soldiers to his cause.” And there he is, his dias overshadowed by a huge red cross (which is pretty obviously two strips of red cloth hurriedly pinned perpendicular to each other — this is a typically impoverished Taiwanese production, after all).

I always suspected the Red Cross was up to something sneaky.

Here, I thought, would be an occasion for some interesting plot points: does Christianity become a subversive movement? Do we get women and children happily acting as martyrs for the warlord, treating his offensive against the Dynasty as a holy cause? Is there any backlash against “real” Christians, or those who aren’t associated with the warlord’s vendetta?

Well, if ever those questions are to be answered, they’ll have to be answered in some other movie. Because aside from that one image, and the use of the word “Christian” twice in passing, that entire interesting plot element is completely absent. So is just about any other interesting plot element, for that matter.

On with the story, then: we see the Christian troops of the warlord (I’ll be avoiding proper names most of the time, thanks to my inability to accurately record all of the Chinese names I hear) getting their asses handed to them by the Ching Commander (hereinafter known as the Commander), who exults in their victory with his right-hand man, Captain Te, who used to be on the warlord’s team but switched sides. Or did he?

One, two, cha-cha-cha…

Apparently not, as he sneaks out of their victory banquet to meet with a Christian spy dressed as a bum and relay the Commander’s plans to the warlord. But the spy is soon thereafter confronted by — Cha Chiang! (That’s Chiang Da Wei, or “David Chiang” to you and me.) A young kung fu master dressed in immaculate white, Chiang also came over from the warlord’s camp, and has had his suspicions of Captain Te all along; this meeting with the spy clinches it, so he fights the spy and his cronies for several minutes in order to bring the spy in alive — but it all comes to naught, as a mysterious dart kills the spy to keep him silent.

Chiang brings the body before the Commander with accusations against Captain Te, but the Commander laughs the allegations off and tells Chiang not to be so hotheaded. Stymied, Chiang then goes to the Commander’s wife and daughter (the latter is always referred to as “the princess,” so I’m not sure exactly what the Commander is, in addition to being, you know, a commander). Seems that the Commander and family have been invited to Captain Te’s camp, and Chiang thinks that’s a not-so-much good idea. Unable to persuade the Commander either directly or through the womenfolk, he instead volunteers his services as a constant bodyguard to the wimmens.

Along the way, naturally, Chiang and Captain Te have words about loyalty and traitorousness (traitorosity?), with one of these “The next time I see you, it’ll be to the death!” ultimatums. (Ultimata?)

“Above all, I must remain inconspicuous.”

Chiang’s suspicions prove well-founded, because once in Te’s camp, Te has the Commander’s retinue dispersed among his own men, making them very easy to pick off and kill. Chiang tries mightily to defend the princess (helped by the fact that she is herself a kung fu badass) and rescue the Commander from Te’s tent, but along the way the princess gets captured (and her mother dies by her own hand, so as not to slow her daughter’s escape down). Chiang then switches clothes with the Commander and splits up with him to go rescue the princess. Boy, no matter what he does, he can’t watch ‘em both at the same time, can he? So he and the princess end up trekking toward a Ching stronghold, while the Commander wanders the countryside and gets himself captured.

Whatever flimsy excuse we’ve had for a plot takes a dirtnap right about here, because from this point until the end, it’s just a long string of kung fu fights, as Chiang and the princess are continually discovered by, ambushed by, and beset upon by Te’s and the warlord’s fighters. First it’s poisoned noodles in a restaurant, then it’s a ferryboat full of conspirators (who take their time attacking, mainly so we can thrill along to the becalmed sailing action, apparently), then three women doing their laundry on the riverbank who turn out to have deadly baskets, an ambush in a canyon with big styrofoam rocks falling in neverending cascades (fellas, I know filmstock’s expensive in Taiwan, but when your big rock hits a character and bounces without so much as throwing her off-balance, maybe it’s time for another take), and five guys with big colorful flags that they use like spears. It gets comical after a while, like, “Hmm, look. People. Bet they’re bad guys.”

“Why is there a watermelon there?”
“I’ll tell you later.”

There’s the merest hint of attraction between Chiang and the princess, but it’s limited to some soulful yet reserved silent looks; fraternization across class boundaries would definitely be discouraged. Eventually, instead, he rescues the Commander from a low-rent prison cell and braves a number of other fighters, including the warlord’s main general. Or maybe it’s the the warlord himself; I couldn’t keep them straight, as they have similar facial hair and both like to wear red hoods that bear a disturbing resemblance to baby bonnets.

Eventually there’s the inevitable showdown between Chiang and Captain Te (the latter wearing spiked armor), while simultaneously the princess fends off several goons who assault her with flaming catapult payloads. (This movie features practically every ungainly kung fu weapon short of the flying guillotine itself.) Thanks to the magic of intercutting, we get to watch both of those fights for a full ten minutes. Enthralling action? Actually, I was pinching myself to stay awake until the big yellow words “THE END” came up.

“Dammit, it’s a headdress, not a bonnet!!”

Maybe it’s just that the fight choreography was so damned rhythmic. Hit, hit, punch, kick, block, kick, hit, chop, hit… There was a metronomic quality to it all that undermined any possible adrenaline rush to the big climactic fight and instead lulled me to sleep. that, and the fact that there had been nothing but fights like that for the last forty minutes, made this 92-minute feature seem sooooo long. Maybe that’s the “secret” alluded to in the title. Or maybe I’m just reaching for some way to wrap up this review. In which case, I’ll just cut my losses and stop here.

Some Notable Totables:

• body count: 45
• breasts: 0
• explosions: 5
• ominous thunderstorms: 0
• actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 0