Back Alley Princes
马路小英雄
Hong Kong, 1973, colour, 2.35:1, 100 mins.
Director: Luo Wei 罗维.
Rating: 6/10.
Action comedy-drama sports lively leads and even a smattering of social comment.
STORY
Hong Kong, the present day. Two youngsters, Hot Pepper Kid (Shangguan Lingfeng) and Embroidered Pillow (Xu Guanjie), live off their wits on the streets, petty thieving and conning money off passers-by with fake fights. After helping medicine salesman Jiang (Tian Feng), he invites them to stay at the boarding house of Mrs. Wang (Wang Lai), where they meet his daughter Jiang Su (Mao Ying) among others. During one exploit, picking the pocket of a cinemagoer, they are caught and get to know their victim, Deng (Liu Yong), a lawyer. When he learns about the Kid’s true background, Deng offers to provide him with a proper home and education, but the Kid finally rejoins his true “family”. When Mrs. Wang’s daughter, Wang Feng (Tang Jing), is kidnapped by the hoodlum boyfriend (Zhang Junying) of another boarder, Lily (Jiang Fan), and taken to the HQ of his boss (Han Yingjie), who collects virgins, the Kid offers to dress as a girl and join Jiang Su in rescuing her.
REVIEW
Amongst the glut of martial arts pictures from Hong Kong (only a few of which have so far reached commercial British screens), there are some which still surprise with their rough diamond appeal and genuine ritualistic quality. The tetralogy of Li Xiaolong 李小龙 [Bruce Lee] has these qualities in varying amounts, but there are several less spectacularly-sold works which are every bit as good. From the Golden Harvest stable there has already appeared the fine Hap Ki Do 合气道 (1972); the star of that, Mao Ying 茅瑛 [Angela Mao], now reappears in Back Alley Princes 马路小英雄, which is currently doing the rounds as a filler [lower half of a double bill] to The Way of the Dragon 猛龙过江 [on UK release]. The martial arts genre seems set to develop [its overseas commercial profile] in exactly the same way as the Italian western: a central clutch of four films built around a definitive star (Li/Clint Eastwood), from which permutations and imitations blossom in endless rapidity. The mythic-operatic qualities of the Leone films and some of their offshoots can all be found in the Hong Hong counterparts: with a powerful Eastern heritage of samurai pictures and meditative philosophies, the two producer giants, the Shaw Brothers and Golden Harvest’s Zou Wenhuai 邹文怀 [Raymond Chow], seem set for several years to come. As with the Italian western, the bubble will only burst slowly.
It would be a shame if Back Alley Princes was overlooked in the rush: though without the wholesale slaughter of many costumed martial arts pictures, or the total mythic quality of Hap Ki Do or the Li works, it possesses its full share of conventions and oblique social comment which can be found in most of the better quality works. The presence of Mao is recommendation enough, but she is by no means the central star: here the honours go to the incredibly vivacious [Taiwan action actress] Shangguan Lingfeng 上官灵凤, who, in a suspended state of dramatic convention equal only to Elizabethan drama, plays her entire role in persona pueri. One wonders, at the beginning, whether this new slant will be maintained, but it soons becomes clear that it is one of the lynchpins of the entire story. Though extremely agreeable to watch, she gives few hints of frustrated feminine desires: her part totally lacks, on the one hand, the bizarre sexuality of certain Marlene Dietrich antics, and, on the other, the tricksy sportiveness of, say, Mary Pickford as Little Lord Fauntleroy (1921). Playing a rootless orphan character, the Hot Pepper Kid, who with a male associate, Embroidered Pillow (the handsome Xu Guanjie 许冠杰 [Samuel Hui]), cons passers-by for a living, Shangguan Lingfeng never leaves the spectator in any doubt as to her true sex; within the confines of the film, however, an elaborate dramatic charade is played out in which not only does a wealthy young lawyer take pity on him/her, offering free bed and board to “the young master”, but the plotline also calls for the Kid to dress as a girl to penetrate the villain’s hideout with Mao. The sexual conotations hardly bear thinking about, but, despite the revealing tightness of the Kid’s jeans and shirts, all characters remain in blissful ignorance of the gigantic impersonation. Here again, in a dedicated mission of piling absurdity upon absurdity, a Hong Kong film achieves its own personality. Even at the end, when the Hot Pepper Kid reveals that she is really a girl (to general amazement), a wink into the camera leaves the film on an upbeat: whether Embroidered Pillow knows is never made clear; whether it is at all important is another matter. [The film was later retitled Back Alley Princesses as an action vehicle for Mao and Shangguan Lingfeng, which kind of lost the point; the Chinese title means “Little Street Heroes”.]
A sequel to Back Alley Princes has already been made [Chinatown Capers 小英雄大闹唐人街, aka The Chinese Enforcers, 1974]. The ambiguity is continued even further in the second work, which was shot back-to-back with another film in San Francisco. Back Alley Princes, from the very start, is a revelation in every way: jokey credits, complete with the customary misspellings, lead into a faked combat scene between the Kid and Embroidered Pillow, designed to con money from inquisitive onlookers. Set in modern-day Hong Kong, the film deals with an aspect of life far removed from the customary elevated dramas of costume martial arts films. The locale is a working-class district, an open market full of jugglers, grocers and layabouts. True to form, a villain eventually emerges, but he is of secondary importance for much of the film. Fight scenes, also, are not plentiful, but when they arrive afford much pleasure. Shangguan Lingfeng is an agile combatant, brimming with tomboy esprit, and her early combat scenes are infused with a lack of seriousness which is refreshing. A test-bout against the dynamic Mao is nicely choreographed [by action director Han Yingjie 韩英杰, who also plays the villain], and her subsequent defeat at the hands of Mao’s own guru is full of throwaway humour. The other fight scenes, both alongside Mao, are very fine, particularly the final one in the villain’s claustrophobic bedroom: dramatic use is made of the confined space, and both girls perform with admirable ferocity.
Luo Wei 罗维, the director of Bruce Lee’s first two films, shows once again his clear superiority in this particular field (he makes a cameo appearance as a tram passenger whose hat is stolen by the Kid). Luo uses his particular social setting for the film to make one or two pointed comments on the hierarchy of power and influence: this is no kung fu picture in which combat automatically wins the day – for much of the time, his struggling central characters rely on the powers of the friendly rich young lawyer. Not too much should be made of this aspect of Back Alley Princes; it is primarily an entertainment picture there to be enjoyed. Sub-themes are evident, however, and these, combined with the extreme conventions adopted in the face of a transvestite heroine and the whole martial arts ethos, make Back Alley Princes worthy of note. Familiar faces from the Golden Harvest repertory stable all make appearances – none briefer than Huang Jiada 黄家达 [Carter Wong] (Mao’s partner in Hap Ki Do). The magnetic Miss Mao herself plays second fiddle to the equally electrifying Shangguan Lingfeng: a former ballet student (born Taiwan, 1950), Mao now enjoys the accolade reserved for leading kung fu stars; films like Lady Whirlwind 铁掌旋风腿 (1972), When Tae Kwon Do Strikes 跆拳震九州 (1973), and Stoner 铁金刚打破紫阳观 (1974, with George Lazenby) wait in the wings – all by Hap Ki Do‘s director, Huang Feng 黄枫. Despite the comparative smallness of her role, however, she imbues her part with sufficient charisma to remain in the memory. As a whole, in fact, performances triumph over production throughout Back Alley Princes – with its appalling cod-Hollywood score, dreadful colour processing and gaping plot lacunae.
CREDITS
Presented by Golden Harvest (HK). Produced by Golden Harvest (HK).
Script: Luo Wei. Photography: Chen Qingqu. Editing: Zhang Yaozong [Peter Cheung]. Music: Gu Jiahui [Joseph Koo]. Art direction: Chen Sen. Costumes: Zhu Shengxi. Action: Han Yingjie.
Cast: Shangguan Lingfeng (Hot Pepper Kid), Xu Guanjie [Samuel Hui] (Embroidered Pillow), Mao Ying [Angela Mao] (Jiang Su), Huang Jiada [Carter Wong] (Mr. Jiang’s assistant), Jiang Fan (Lily), Tian Feng (Jiang), Liu Yong (Deng, the lawyer), Li Kun (Kun, Jiang’s cousin), Han Yingjie (gang boss), Wang Lai (Mrs. Wang, the landlady), Wu Jiaxiang (fortune-teller), Huang Zongxun (Uncle Yi), Feng Yi (killer), Luo Wei (robbed tram passenger), Qing Shan (shoeshine victim), Zhang Di (policeman), Ma Hailun [Helen Ma] (Deng’s fiancee), Lin Weiqi (Ling), Zhang Junying (Hou, Lily’s boyfriend), Tang Jing (Wang Feng, Mrs. Wang’s daughter).
Release: Hong Kong, 17 Feb 1973.
(Review section originally published in UK monthly films and filming, Aug 1974. Modern annotations in square brackets.)