Opening with what sounds suspiciously like the title score from Once Upon a Time in China (complete with row upon row of Shaolin monks practicing their kung fu drills in front of the temple), Tai-Chi Master tells the story of a pair of monks, Junbiao (Li) and Tinbiao (Chin), whose paths begin to diverge after they are cast out of their monastery for fighting. Tinbiao, the materialistic, aggressive bully of the two, seeks fame and power and eventually leaves his friend to join the local government forces, headed by a corrupt and evil general. Junbiao, on the other hand, seeks to do the right thing, and falls in with a band of revolutionaries intent on overthrowing the powers that be. As their lives continue to grow apart, it becomes obvious that Tinbiao is using the trusting Junbiao to further his career, and, after a stunning upset for the partisans reveals a tremendous double-cross, the sensitive Junbiao is driven temporarily mad. While recuperating at the home of underground leader Michelle Yeoh, he learns the mysteries of the martial art of tai-chi and rallies his fellows for a final, bloody attack on the government’s stronghold. Tai-Chi Master is nothing new, but it is a solid, dependable throwback to the days when directors like Woo and Hark were still in their Huggies. Nonstop action leads to furiously ingenious set pieces shot with the traditional wire harnesses and outlandish effects, and the simple storyline serves as little more than a transitional springboard for getting from one fight scene to another. The stunts are above average — the final battle between the two former friends is a knockout — and Li is excellent, as always, as this precursor to his most famous character, Wong Fei-Hong. Not the best thing to come out of Hong Kong in a while, but still a rouser.
This article appears in July 29 • 1994 (Cover).