King Hu

May 25 to June 17, 2012
 

If King Hu had never existed, the history of international film would be viewed differently today: without A Touch of Zen (1971) or Raining in the Mountain (1979), Chinese martial arts cinema would likely still be waiting for recognition from mainstream film critics and historians. To put it another way: King Hu was the key to unlocking the study and exegesis of an entire popular culture. Bruce Lee had turned this culture into a true Sixties and Seventies pop phenomenon – but Hu's films were the first to be critically revered. For many, these works confirmed what had previously just been a vague impression – that there was a lot more going on in martial arts cinema that the spectacular elimination of as many opponents as possible. Thus, King Hu joined the ranks of Sergio Leone, Mario Bava, Suzuki Seijun, Roger Corman and Mani Ratnam: genre artists who cut a wide swath.
 

Hu (1931-1997) was anything but a typical filmmaker of his time: he was a veritable auteur complet, who tried to shape his films on every level of production; always deliberately and with great care, which regularly led to problems – the financiers wanted their merchandise quicker and cheaper than Hu was willing to deliver. He didn’t make small films. Even “modest” works like Dragon Inn (1967) and The Fate of Lee Khan (1973), both set mostly in a single location, were more lavish and time-consuming than the average film of that era. They were also often more successful: box office hits like Come Drink With Me (1966), Dragon Inn and The Valiant Ones (1975) enabled Hu to get budgets for more personal and oversized projects – which then almost invariably turned out to be flops. This was also due to the fact that they were released in grotesquely mutilated versions. A Touch of Zen circulated for years in a version abridged by nearly half; this cut disappeared only after the complete film triumphed at Cannes in 1975. And even today, Legend of the Mountain (1979) can hardly ever be experienced in its full three-hour glory.

This thinking on a massive scale, this will to greatness, also destroyed Hu's career. A disciple of Li Hanxiang, Hu began his career at a time when Mandarin cinema was the dominant force in the Hong Kong film industry. With this came a new wave of martial arts cinema, which attempted to translate the martial arts into genuine cinematographic terms, instead of simply reflecting them(as did most of the works of the forties and fifties). And it was also the great era of the opera movie – Li Hanxiang’s The Love Eterne (1963), portions of which were directed by Hu, is a prime example of this genre. But by 1980, the Hong Kong film industry had turned around once again; it was now Cantonese productions that stood at the center of Hong Kong cinema – and Hu was completely marginalized. He would direct a few more films, but it soon became clear that he didn't how to deal with the changed industry circumstances.
 

Three elements differentiate Hu from all other masters of martial arts cinema and make his work immediately accessible, even for middle-class Western audiences. First: his aesthetic is firmly rooted in traditional Chinese art forms, especially painting and Music theater – one can sense this even without ever having attended a performance of the Peking Opera. Secondly, there is a strong spiritual dimension to Hu's works – as already stated by the international title of Xia Nü (A Touch of Zen). And finally, alongside these culturally specific aspects, one must also point out Hu's extraordinary mastery of film directing. To pick out one element in particular: only Eisenstein, Kurosawa and Peckinpah have penetrated the nature of montage as deeply as Hu. He was a genius, and this can be seen on the screen. In his own way, he was like a hero from one of his major works: an errant knight of the moving image. His jiang hu – the mythical realm of martial arts culture – was the illusory world of cinema. 

 

This first major retrospective of King Hu’s works in the German speaking world has been aided by the research of Italian film historian Lorenzo Codelli. The Film Museum will also present lectures by Christoph Huber and Olaf Möller, as well as – with thanks to Annie Weich – the first German translation of Olivier Assayas' major essay on King Hu, dating from 1984. 
 

In cooperation with the project "50 Years of Viennale"