Prior to
starting my A Little TLC(w) reviews, I’d already done write-ups of most of the
Tony Leung Chiu-wai films I’d seen, including all but one of his (many) Wong
Kar-wai films. I’m not going to
re-review Ashes of Time or any other
film fom A Little TLC(w) perspective – although, for what it’s worth, “Recommend? In General – Yes, yes, yes!, Tony
Leung Chiu-Wai – Oh my, yes!” But
when it comes to singing Leung’s praises, I can’t just not include these movies, so I’ve decided to do Favorite Characters
or Character Highlight posts for them instead, with a bit more actor-focus than
I typically do for characters (Blind Swordsman-related spoilers.)
I’ve mentioned before that Leung has played several blind characters, and from my
admittedly-limited exposure to Chinese cinema, it seems to be kind of a popular
character point for them (enough that I was surprised to learn that Donnie Yen
had never played a blind character
before Chirrut in Rogue One.) Now, it’s obviously better from a
representation standpoint to have disabled characters played by disabled
actors, but this is something you still see happening constantly, particularly
when it comes to badass blind warriors (see the aforementioned Chirrut,) so I’m
hardly surprised that a movie from 1994 cast a sighted actor to play the Blind
Swordsman.
Given the
fact that he has no name, it might be tempting to think of the Blind Swordsman
as just that: a type, not a character, a
visually-interesting trope and nothing more.
And to be sure, his fight scene with the bandits is super cool, but the Blind Swordsman is so much more than just a
hook. He’s presented very carefully/gently
as a person – like most everyone in Ashes
of Time, a person with some more-than-passing angst issues, but still
someone grounded and specific. This is
clearly someone with a life, even though we only see glimpses of it.
That’s
something that really intrigues me about the Blind Swordsman’s story, how much
of it goes unsaid. You put it together
between the lines. He leaves home after
his wife and his friend fall for each other, and though he vows to kill Huang
Yaoshi the next time he sees him, he doesn’t go through with it (because “the
next time [they] met, [he] could no longer see.”) Instead, he wanders, working/fighting his way
through the wilderness, like he’s in purgatory for someone else’s sins. When he realizes he needs to return home, he
can’t afford it and turns to Ouyang Feng to find swordsman work, but by this
point, his vision is deteriorating more rapidly. I love his refrain of wanting to get home in
time to see the peach blossoms one more time, and Ouyang Feng’s revelation
later in the film – that there are no peach blossoms in the Blind Swordsman’s
town, that Peach Blossom is his wife – is just a beautiful gutpunch.
Despite
being an itinerant swordsman, much of his story is so still, so quiet. It’s about being away and stuck, unable to
get back. It’s about waiting, about
fighting time by existing through it and enduring, not by openly combatting
it. He’s waiting for the bandits to
arrive so he can fight them and earn the money he needs to go home, and all the
while, he can see less and less but nothing he can do will make the bandits
show up when he wants them there.
To me,
Leung just shines so much in this role.
That stillness is electric; the Blind Swordsman doesn’t appear restless
or anxious, but he feels poised on the edge of something. The quiet draws you in, makes you lean
forward so you don’t miss anything.
Everything – the regret, the betrayal, the fear, the determination – is
painted on such a subtle canvas.
“Soulful” is a word that comes up time and again when I describe Leung’s
work, but in this case, I think it’s the only word I can really use to try and
capture it.
When we
do finally get to the fight, I appreciate that Wong Kar-wai resists the urge to
go whole-hog with the “legendary blind warrior whose loss of one sense makes
the other four superhuman, and the
mere mortals have only to watch in awe!” thing.
We’ve seen that plenty of times (sometimes with the added bonus of
superpowers, a la Daredevil, or Force sensitivity, a la Chirrut Îmwe,) and
again, it makes for a cool visual, but it can sometimes distance these
characters from a sense of humanity. Not
so with the Blind Swordsman. He’s
clearly framed as an excellent swordsman, and he obviously must be relying a
great deal on his other senses, but the camera doesn’t linger over it. Part of this is because this is a character
who’s going blind – he’s not there
yet, which oddly puts more focus on his inability to see. With a totally sightless character, vision
isn’t even a factor, but while his skills are unquestionably great, the Blind
Swordsman still prays for a clear day.
By the time the bandits finally come, he can only see in very bright
light, and the scene takes its artful visuals from the flashing sun and the
ominous roll of the clouds.
Again,
this makes him feel like more of a person.
He’s not unstoppable. In fact,
he’s almost surely doomed to failure, to death.
When he faces off against the bandits, he does it because he has no
other recourse, not because he’s sure he’ll win. And somehow, that just makes him even more
impressive to me.
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