Review: I’ve always admired Tsui Hark the producer more than Tsui Hark the director. While his directing career hit a high point in the early 90’s, his recent outings (THE LEGEND OF ZU, BLACK MASK 2, KNOCK-OFF, DOUBLE TEAM) have left a sour taste in my mouth. Then came the announcement of SEVEN SWORDS. The ambitious project seemed to be the redemption of Tsui Hark. With an epic story, motley cast, and spectacular backdrops, this is going to be the film to put Tsui Hark back on top of the cinematic mountain, right?

The climb to the top is long and tough, littered with harsh audience members and scathing critics. Unfortunately, Tsui Hark may not have the muscles to complete this endeavor. With these traditional epic swordplay films, usually the surface feeds the eyes with fierce battles and ethereal scenery, while the latent presents a poetic flow of philosophy and self-actualization within the characters. SEVEN SWORDS does neither. Without the peanut butter and jelly, you have nothing but the bland bread, and SEVEN SWORDS is the bland bread.

The general audience will have their interests piqued by the action sequences so let’s dissect that aspect first. Well…there really aren’t that many to talk about. Aside from the slaughter that opens the film, only three fights grace the screen (one after the seven swordsmen band together, one after the initial rescue of the villagers, and the finale). The first two happen practically 10 minutes within each other, while the third serves as the big finale, over an hour apart from the last bout. If these fight sequences were done effectively, then the people could at least say “Hey, the drama isn’t that great, but at least the action knocked us off our seats!” The editing really doesn’t give the audience the privilege to utter this line. While each sword is unique in its own way, we only get a slight taste of their destruction. When the double doors first fly open with the silhouette of a man standing in front of a small army, immediately we expect the delight of beautiful, yet devastating, blows to the enemy forces. About five minutes in, any sense of that delight is sucked right out of us, courtesy of the barrage of rough cuts and quick jumps. At one point you’re not sure just how many of the seven swordsmen has entered the room to save the children and teacher. This problem plagues the rest of the sequences, with a few moments of clear, long shots to give you a better feel of mayhem (but you can see most of those shots in the trailer). Even in the finale (that parallels the great Jet Li vs. Donnie Yen fight of ONCE UPON A TIME IN CHINA 2), the rough editing gets in the way of truly appreciating the sheer ferocity between the blades. And I say between the blades… not the characters.

Each sword is given a specific trait and unique feel, but the same can’t be said about the characters. I have been a long-time advocate of Leon Lai being a great actor, but his role as Yang Yun Chong will definitely feed more fuel to the fire of my nay-sayers. Throughout the film, he puts on only two faces: the serious face that can double as an angry face, and the smiley face. That’s basically it. It doesn’t help that his character is hollowed out. The criticism isn’t just on Leon’s side, but it’s universal amongst the rest of the cast (with the exception of Donnie Yen and Kim So-Yeon). This becomes painfully apparent when every swordsman is given an ounce of personality in a sequence where they have to relinquish their swords. As for the villains, well, they look very cool. With the fantasy-inspired black armor, they just look like pure evil manifested in human form. Their only purpose, however, is to be killed. Aside from the one female general, all the other ones look like clones of each other, with only their unique weapons to separate them apart. Even the main villain, Fire-Wind, doesn’t really give us enough to hate him. Biting Green Pearl’s back as she’s eating meat is probably the most imposing thing he does all film. Even when he commands his troops, it’s comedic (which may be intentional). You never have that sense of urgency for the heroes because this guy doesn’t pose any threat! But with that said, the blame could be put on the cutting down of a 4 hour film to fit a 2.5 hour running time. It’s assumed that most of the characterization was reserved for the release of the 4 hour version, but with these scenes lost, the current edit stands as a emotion-less hodgepodge of shallow characters. It’s an even bigger shame that the majority of the characters aren’t even given proper introductions!

The editing comes back into play when the spotlight is on the narrative. The story is simple enough: seven swordsmen go out to save a village. While Tsui Hark finds plenty of side-plots to keep the film “moving,” the aforementioned lack of audience connection kills the intentions of these scenes. For example, a seemingly randomly introduced bond between Han Zhibang and his horse comes into play in the middle of the movie. All Han does is look at his horse, ask if it’s healthy and to make sure the horse isn’t left behind, and then walks away. This scene lasts barely two minutes but it comes back later in the film via a six or seven minute “emotional” release-into-the-wild sequence, followed with Han screaming into the distance…almost in tears. It may sound beautiful in words, but when placed into the context of the film, it just seems completely random. As for the scandalous love rectangle, it begins to grow its legs when Donnie Yen’s Chu Zhaonan offers Zhang Jingchu’s Liu Yufang a bowl of blood from the defeated enemies, as a method to quell her uneasiness about killing. It really does feel like a massive chunk of the movie is missing.

Through all of its short-comings, SEVEN SWORD still has its ups. The aesthetics of the film are extraordinary. Tsui Hark truly knows how to frame a shot. With some of China’s most stunning landscapes acting as a playground for these characters to roam, the cinematography ultimately becomes the film’s strongest point. If only everything else followed suite.

There is one last gripe with the film, but this one may be more on a personal level. When the biggest draw of the film is the swordsmen and their unique blades, it’s a massive buzz kill when two of the swords and just tossed at common villagers (who know a little kung-fu), without a true explanation why these two are so privileged. Han Zhibang gets the Deity Sword. It’s hard to believe he’s a privileged wielder when his single most prominent trait in the film is lust. Charlie Yeung has a hard time figuring the quirks of her Heaven’s Fall Sword, but suddenly picks up on it out of the blue. And it would seem like each blade takes high mastery and training to become skillful with, but all of the romanticism is crumbled in the last few minutes of the film when some of the swords are interchangeable. It just drains the magic from the very swords themselves when they can swap blades like its musical chairs.

SEVEN SWORDS is, through all its faults, worth viewing in theaters. Just be prepared to feel somewhat disappointed. This film offers such a rich world with endless possibilities and potentially unforgettable characters. It isn’t so much that the film itself that disappoints the most, but the promise this film carried. It could’ve taken the audience on a spectacular journey with these seven masters of the blade. The promise is still there with the announced possibility of six or seven more episodes. Hopefully the series just had a false start, and the follow-up will finally show the world of the epic literary tales that has been confined due to language barriers. Until then, SEVEN SWORDS is, sadly, just another film in the large library of the wuxia genre.