COWEB review
A first time director, but one who's a long-time veteran from behind the scenes of Hong Kong cinema's golden age. An up-and-coming star cherry-picked by a living legend. A plot looking back to some of the all-time classic martial arts movies – so why exactly is Xin Xin Xiong's [i]Coweb[/i] still yet to see a release outside mainland China? Read on after the break.
[i]([b]Please note![/b] To the best of my knowledge this film is [b]not[/b] commercially available with English subtitles. The DVD I watched did not possess them and I have found neither any online retailer selling a legitimate copy which does, nor any effort by fans to create their own subtitles. I am [b]not[/b] familiar with the language – I apologise in advance for any errors I have made or anything I've glossed over as a result. Feel free to correct me in the comments should you know any different!)[/i]
In the glory days of 1980s action cinema the tournament fighter was the contrived plotline of choice for countless hapless writers looking for a reason why a small band of glowering musclemen would turn up at a deserted island, secluded mansion, run-down industrial complex or similar out-of-the-way location in order to kick seven bells out of each other. The idea 'two men enter, one man leaves' excuses a multitude of sins – if the action's brutal enough and the road to the title a near vertical incline, who cares if the story barely makes any sense, the cast clearly weren't hired for their acting abilities or that anyone left outside the ring seems lucky to have been given more than two or three lines? With enough alcohol it matters even less.
But twenty or thirty years on the old guard aren't getting any younger, east or west, and audiences hanker after more than just trial by combat. Once upon a time the quest for revenge would have been more than enough – now action films demand stunt and CGI work so elaborate it leans sharply towards self-parody ([i]The Transporter[/i]); conspiracies within conspiracies (the Bourne films) or syrupy melodrama ([i]Danny the Dog[/i]). And yet – whisper it softly – the best of these suggest that maybe things are better this way. If you can build a half-decent narrative framework around enough stylised violence to keep the viewers howling for blood, surely no-one wants to fight progress?
In this light [i]Coweb[/i] seems like something of a throwback. This is the first film from Xiong Xin Xin, a stuntman, choreographer and actor beloved of martial arts aficionados familiar with his work on any number of acknowledged classic films from Hong Kong cinema's golden age (principally Tsui Hark's famous [i]Once Upon a Time in China[/i] franchise). His young lead Jiang Luxia was a finalist on Jackie Chan's Chinese reality television series [i]The Disciple[/i], a national martial arts champion [b]and[/b] an internet viral video star – and [i]Coweb[/i] is a tournament fighter. On paper it seems like Hong Kong's answer to [i]Ong Bak[/i], a down-and-dirty production designed to sate fans hungry for something to live up to the classics of decades past. With so much potential, what could possibly go wrong?
Jiang plays Nie Yiyi, a young martial arts instructor struggling to cope with the sudden loss of her father in suspicious circumstances. Trying to lift her out of her funk is longtime friend Chung Tin (familiar HK character actor Sam Lee, reigning in his trademark overacting under some fetching hair extensions) who suggests she try a stint as bodyguard to debonair tycoon Ho Kwun (Eddie Cheung, [i]Fatal Move[/i]) and his girlfriend. When black-clad thugs (and one hulking, mute [i]gwailo[/i]) turn up to kidnap both Ho and his girlfriend for reasons unknown, Nie and Chung are drawn into a web of intrigue involving a predictably improbable fighting tournament broadcast over the internet by an underground syndicate who seem intent on making Nie the star of the show.
None of this matters so much when it only takes [i]Coweb[/i] a little over two minutes to start lowering the viewer's expectations. A cursory prologue (Jiang's father's untimely death) that borders on unintentionally funny; a visual gimmick which irritates from the first time it appears on screen (the film blurring then briefly 'rewinding', regardless of whether any hidden camera's actually supposed to be present), and a credits sequence which seems to have been knocked up in Flash by an over-worked intern. It is not a promising start, and when the film proper opens by showing us Jiang's lingering grief by way of her walking into a closed door it's hard not to grimace in frustration.
Mercifully the setup from then on is at least succinct; a brief 'pull yourself together' speech from Chung; an audition where Nie has to demonstrate her martial prowess to convince Ho to employ her, some scene-setting with Nie brooding while the happy couple gad about town and then henchmen in a hotel dining room, entrance stage right.
At this point it suddenly becomes obvious Jiang Luxia lives up to the hype in many respects. The hotel fight – first against the anonymous henchmen, then the silent, hulking Westerner – is a good six minutes of entertainingly overblown stunt fighting, tables and chairs broken, plates and utensils thrown, Jiang darting over, under and through the furniture. It feels surprisingly credible, not just in terms of the skill on display but also in the way Jiang emotes every blow, her face clearly showing the effort she's supposed to be putting into it. It's an unexpected bonus, given the rules of the 'chick fight' frequently disregard little things like size discrepancy or physical strength unless dramatic convenience calls for them to play a part.
Yet at the same time all the technical excellence can't make up for the creeping impression this is all, well, a little dull. Xiong does not measure up as a director; fumbling the dramatic interludes might be forgiveable, but surprisingly he seems fairly unconcerned about framing the fights for effect as well. Six minutes feels like a long, long time measured out in awkward, fairly unremarkable camera angles and stilted pacing – it takes a good deal more to elevate hand-to-hand combat than simply point-and-shoot, and [i]Coweb[/i] rarely feels as if Xiong can be bothered. The mood is also hampered by some baffling foley work that verges on the absurd – those who didn't care for the animal noises scoring [i]Dog Bite Dog[/i] would be well advised to turn the volume down here.
Neither editing nor score help much. The dramatic beats are listless and predictable – Jiang has some degree of screen presence, but the script rarely gives her any chance to use it beyond screaming at her opponents, and while Sam Lee has managed some effective performances in other films he's largely wasted here. The narrative never really manages any sense of tension and if the fights aren't dragged out far too long, they're being undercut by unwanted closeups, jarring cutaways, filler shots or a soundtrack which is simply appallingly badly conceived, themes fading in and out or changing completely for no apparent reason.
All this reaches a nadir in the final fight, twice as long as the kitchen sequence – Jiang and Kane Kosugi are forced to stretch their final showdown over nigh on twelve minutes, clumsily interwoven with the inevitable plot twist. The way the real villain of the piece meets his end is practically unbelievable considering the film's obvious lack of any real budget and the idea anyone would find the villain interesting enough to want his final moments scattered through what ought to have been a thrilling climax is baffling.
[i]Coweb[/i] is not a [b]bad[/b] film, and the talent of most of the principals is obvious for all the production's failings. Jiang Luxia clearly deserves more than this, and given his decades of experience in the industry Xin Xin Xiong could still be the one to get her something better. But while it may well be of interest to avid fans who dream of a better, simpler time when all a movie needed was a shaky one-line premise and a makeshift arena, [i]Coweb[/i] never really manages to make anything worthwhile out of its raw material, and seems a little too happy to settle for mediocrity rather than turning all that potential into anything truly memorable.